Double Agent
by emadeline
Summary: Robert Pattinson is in New York filming a movie, and hires a bodyguard trained by the NYPD. He gets a little less than what he paid for- or did he? Twilight refrences, Robert and fictional female.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first ever attempt at posting on ff, so bear with me. This story currently has three completed chapters, all fairly close in length, the fourth is almost finished.

I'm not one to beg for reviews, I'm sure you all know the drill by now.

Chapter 1 Double Agent

"Well, Ms. Smith," he smiled, trying to lighten the mood with the office joke. She rolled her eyes.

"Get to it, Grainger."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "I called you in my office today because I have a new assignment for you. Your skills with self-defense, crowd control, social events, and work ethics will be of great use in this case. It's one week long. Here are the details." Grainger pushed his thick glasses up his fat, stubby nose with one hand while the other pushed the open manila folder towards Esmeralda. Or, as she preferred, Esme. She sat in the uncomfortable, barely padded metal chair and looked over the thin file herself. Twenty six year old male, celebrity of high status, therefore, risk. He would be in town for the length of her assignment on a project. There was no picture. Six one, gray eyes, brown, medium length hair. Foreigner. The corner of her mouth turned down. "Now, Esmeralda, another reason I chose you for this assignment is because I need a little extra from you, for a little extra cash, of course-"

She glanced up at her boss. "More than my usual rate?"

"Yes. Almost twice. Here's the deal. Besides for your usual duties as his personal security guard, you'll also have to act as a sort of "deflector"." He just used air quotations. Shit. This isn't good. So she mimicked him.

""Deflector"?"

He coughed uncomfortably. "See," he picked up his pen and began to push the cap off and push it back on with his thumb. Esme could see beads of sweat form along his non-existent hairline."Esmeralda." He took a deep breath. This couldn't be good. "Our new client, well, because of his "status", there will be a few- what do I call them-" his dull brown eyes searched his desk as if the word he needed would be there. "There will be a few- admirers." He nodded. "This is where you would need to "deflect". That's the best I'm able to describe. You'll see for yourself soon enough." He cleared his throat, then dug in his pocket for a hankie and mopped his forehead, as if talking that much was too big of an effort for his overweight body. It probably was. Esme snickered to herself inwardly. So far, she wasn't worried about her new assignment, but then, she felt like she was going into this severely under informed. She wondered who this guy was. Was it that, that had her boss sweating profusely? "You'll be taking the company car- the Mercedes, and pick him up from the airport. His flight lands in forty five minutes."

"Shit Grainger! Forty five minutes?! Thanks for the time to prepare."

"I'm sorry! It was absolutely last minute. I was literally faxed the contract a half hour ago. This is all I got." He motioned to the folder open on the metal desk.

"Are you done? I have somewhere I needed to be ten minutes ago."

"Yes. Be careful, and remember your job."

She stood up, rolling her caramel colored eyes, and snatched the folder off the desk. "I'll keep you updated."

Grainger dropped the keys into her outstretched waiting hand, and nodded. As he watched her leave his office, he silently prayed she wasn't in over her head, but he knew she was. Just not in the job department.

She stormed down the stairs, grabbed her coat off the back of her chair, her purse out of her desk drawer, and shut down her computer. She grabbed her holster and strapped it on, and made her way to the elevator. As she waited, she fished her compact out of her purse and powdered her nose and forehead. Stepping into the elevator, she touched up her mascara, slightly smeared eyeliner, and reapplied her red lipstick. As the elevator doors opened with a ding, she stepped into the parking garage, and jogged to the Mercedes a few stalls down and got in. She checked her makeup a final time, then threw the car in reverse and peeled out of the garage. Following the instructions in the file, she flashed her security clearance badges a couple times when needed, and found her designated location. There was a stream of people exiting a set of doors across the street from her, and her curiosity began to stir. She glanced to the clock on the dash and saw she had gotten there just as the plane had touched down. For the first time in her two year career with Grainger, she was actually thankful for the office's close location to JFK. The movement of the sliding doors on her right caught her attention. "Well fuck me sideways!" she told the empty car. He couldn't be her case. But he was the only one coming out of her doors, with an airport police escort. It had to be. She jumped out and rounded the hood, and opened the back passenger door and the trunk.

One of the officers pulled out a piece of folded paper out of his back pocket and read. "Ms. Hale?"

Esme glanced at the officer's badge, then flashed hers. "Yes sir." They all nodded their greeting. She noticed her new client look her up and down obviously. Don't think she didn't notice. "Thank you for your escort," she told them. They turned to her new client. "Mr. Pattinson," they nodded with small smiles.

She wasn't stupid. She motioned to the waiting car. He gently slid his guitar case in first, then got in himself, a smile on his lips, eyes behind his sunglasses, without a word. She rolled her eyes behind her own glasses, and shut the door. Putting his bags in the trunk, she rounded the car again and got in. She was directed to the Ritz Carlton hotel where he was staying, so she made her move into traffic. As she drove, the magnitude of the situation finally began to sink in. Normally, when she was on body guard duty, it was only a couple hours, or a day tops. But this? A week? A week of being his shadow around the clock. She groaned quietly. Good thing she hated those stupid 'Twilight' movies. Shit. Would she have to see one sometime in the next week? Fuck my life, she thought in misery. Guess the job will be worth the double pay.

"You know," the guy in the back seat interrupted her thoughts. "You don't look to be the security type. You sure you're not an extra sent from the studio?"

Bastard! Her mind screamed. Instead of risking the word actually coming out of her mouth, she just held up held up her badge in the mirror. "Has anyone told you you could be a stand in for Angelina Jolie, but tan and curly hair?"

"No." she said curtly. Truth was, she had, actually. She caught shit for Mr. and Mrs. Smith at the office regularly from the jerkoffs there. She saw him smile out the window. She was going to have to stay at the hotel with him. Shit. What about her clothes? She'd have to take him to her apartment so she could get her stuff. Double shit. After he checked in, she supposed. Was it too late to decline the job? She could call Grainger and ask. She'd do that at the first chance.

"I know you don't know anything about this job you've taken, and for that I apologize, and thank you for the same reason. So here's why I hired you. I need you to be around me while I'm here. I'm working on a film, and there will be a lot of people. Some might get a little crazy, and that's where you come in."

"So why not a male?" she said as flatly as she could manage.

"I wouldn't be able to go to the wrap party, or a couple other functions I have planned while I'm here with a male without doing unrepairable damage to my image, now would I?"

She ground her teeth. She was not informed of even the possibility of being something similar to an escort. Grainger owed her big. And he could bet his ass she'd be chewing him a new one the first chance she got.

"But with a beautiful woman like you? Ha. Probably get some rumors started." She watched him smile out the window again. And how long until those rumors died down and things would return to normal? They pulled up to the hotel, and were immediately swarmed with valet and bell hops, looking for tips. The second she had that car in park, she jumped out and ran to her client's door, beating the valet reaching for the handle, opening it a crack.

"Thank you," she said, letting them know she meant business. They backed off instantly. "You," she pointed to the young bell hop. "You can get the bags." She watched the guys face light up.

"Thank you ma'am!"

She turned to the valet waiting for the keys.

"You. Pop the trunk, and when he's done unloading, you drive. Bring the car back in half an hour." She flashed her badge, showing she was boss. Only then did she open the door fully, telling everyone else to step back. Her hand went to her hip holster and was reassured when she felt her gun sitting in waiting.

"Your bossing is turning me on," he said into her ear quietly as he climbed out of the car. Her jaw dropped. She huffed once, then told him to march. She wanted to slap his sexy accent out of him. Why did the female species have to be suckers for accents anyway? She followed him closely up to the front desk to collect his room key, then followed him to the elevator, trying not to stand in his line of cologne floating off of him as he walked. Behind her was the bell hop. Waiting for the elevator, he gave her her copy of the key. They rode up silently with the bell hop and luggage to the top floor. She didn't know what kind of suite it was going to be, but it was a guarantee it would be 100 percent posh. It seemed like forever when they finally got to the top and the doors slid open. He swiped the card through the lock and the door opened, revealing acres of plush tan carpet, cream walls and curtains- which were floor to ceiling, with cherry wood accents. Dim lighting added to the luxuriousness of the room. In front of them was a small dining room table, complete with a cream linen tablecloth and tall candlesticks. To the left of that was what looked like a small living area. To her immediate left was a cherry wood door open a crack, revealing a glimpse of light blue wall. In between the wall that shielded the living area and the door to the blue room, was a bathroom with the light off. She was sure her eyes were popping out of her head. Recovering, she followed her client into the room. She refused to call him by his name unless absolutely necessary. It made things too personal. She went over to stand by the soft cream leather couch and let the bell boy finish his job. She needed to talk to her client. While she waited, she slid her sunglasses up to sit on her head and looked around. The dining table was on her right, the wall in front of her was floor to ceiling curtains. In between her and the curtains was another full size cream leather couch. In front of the couch and to her slight left was a large square cherry wood coffee table. To the left of that against the left wall was a large entertainment center. Behind her was a pony wall separating the kitchen from the living space. It wasn't very big, but it had a small stove on the other side of the pony wall with gray granite countertops and a mini bar. Across from the stove were more granite counter tops on top of cherrywood cupboards, a microwave, sink and mini fridge. At the end of the kitchen between the fridge and stove was a door to what looked like another bedroom. Oh thank god.

"So. Your name is Hale?" She waited for the door to completely close before turning around to face him head on. He was only a couple feet away, with a crooked smile on his face, hands half in his pockets, leaning against the corner of the pony wall casually.

"_Officer_ Hale. Listen- I took this case unprepared. I didn't pack any bags, or even overnight. I have to take you back to my place so I can pack a bag. I have the car waiting downstairs." She glanced at her watch. Yep. She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head expectantly.

"I guess it's a good thing I didn't have any events tonight. Besides. I'd like to see your place." He smiled.

Why did he have to look at it like that? She sighed and walked past him towards the door. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following. He was, with that stupid smile. He tried again on conversation in the elevator.

"Hello, Officer Hale, my name is Robert Pattinson, but you can call me Rob. I'll be in New York for week while working on a film. I hired you to protect me from the rest of New York. I know it doesn't seem like I need it now, but give it time. I'm guessing by the time we leave this hotel." He smiled at her, and extended his hand to shake. She took it without flinching. Like a man, her coworkers would say. She didn't dare think about how warm his hand was, or how hers fit in perfectly.

"Nice to meet you, Rob. My name is Officer Esmeralda Hale, but you can call me Officer Hale." She withdrew her hand from his and put it in her pocket, but couldn't take her eyes from his. They were so unique. Shit! She tore her eyes away to look at the floor number above the doors.

"Esme Hale? Anyone call you that?"

"No." she said curtly. Yes! Her mind screamed. She could hear the smile in his voice. "Why?" She stole a glance at him when she was met with silence. His jaw was hanging open. "What?"

"You- you-"

"Not everyone likes those 'Twilight' movies, if that's what you're referring to." She looked back at the elevator doors, hiding a grin by biting the inside of her cheek. After a minute, she asked, "Is it?" She looked at him again to see him nod. She had him speechless. Check a point for her. The doors slid open and they crossed the lobby. As the main hotel doors opened for them, she inhaled sharply in surprise when a group of paparazzi stood ready and waiting to pounce on them. Through the flashbulbs, she led him to the waiting car. She opened the back door for him, but he closed it and opened the front passenger door and got in. She rounded the front of the car and got in.

"Let me get this straight. You don't know about my work?"

She smiled as she navigated her way. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but no. I haven't seen the movies, and I haven't read the books. So what's with my name that amuses you so?"

"Oh. Well, your name Esme and Hale are two of the characters names, is all. Just a funny coincidence for me."

"Hmm." She didn't care.

"How long have you been a cop? You don't look to be much older than myself."

Did she want to tell him how old she was? No, not really. "I spent a few years with the NYPD, and then while I was working on a case, I was offered the opportunity to work privately with the boss I have now. Spent a couple years with him so far."

"I suppose I'm not a usual case. What are those like?"

She thought for a minute about his question and couldn't see anything personal in it so she humored him. Fortunately they were only about five more minutes from her place. "Usually, the case isn't longer than twenty four hours, when the person can be relocated or put into protective custody. Most of the time I have female cases." She parked the car outside of a red brick apartment building and climbed out, then went quickly to the passenger side. She waited for him to get out of the car, then led him to the door. She unlocked it and led him up the flight of stairs to their right up to the second floor. Down the hall, she stopped at 214 and unlocked that door. "Have a seat, I'll be done in ten." Closing the door and re-locking it, she stepped out from behind him and took off to her room.

He didn't sit, but wandered around. He could hear her packing quickly, the clatter of hangars, a quick cuss word every once in a while. The place was nice, she must have made a decent living doing what she did. Her furniture was all soft curves in creams and neutral pastels. It was definitely comfortable. Everything was neat and orderly, but not perfect. He wandered into her kitchen, and snooped through her cupboards and fridge. He saw a Coke, and helped himself. He was honestly surprised she didn't have a freezer full of frozen dinners. Her fridge and cupboards were full. He looked around and noticed a picture on the counter in between the toaster and well used coffee maker. He picked it up to study it. It was Esme- he refused to call her Officer Hale- and a littler girl taken from the waist up, outside. Maybe a couple years ago? Esme was wearing an amazing gold strapless dress that brought out her eyes. She had a huge smile on, and was looking down at the little girl, Esme's long light brown spiral curls cascading down over her shoulder, and her left arm around the girl. The little girl was wearing a pink sweetheart cut dress with poofy shoulders. She was cute, no doubt. But Esme? She was beautiful.

"Son of a... !" He looked over his shoulder to where she had disappeared.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah." He looked at the picture once more, then set it down. Were there others? Was there a man? He looked around carefully for signs. Guys shoes by the door- he walked quickly to the door and inspected. No shoes at all. Guy movies? He went to her entertainment center and looked. She must do t-vo or Netflix. Any other pictures? He skirted the room scouring her walls. Her, her and another girl, her and an older man. Could possibly be her dad. The next one was a family picture. The man in the other picture was indeed her father. So she had another sister and two brothers. This one looked more recent, not so long ago. The little girl in the picture in the kitchen must have been maybe ten years ago because it was obvious they were sisters in this one. He glanced over his shoulder in Esme's direction. It sounded like she was throwing her toiletries together. She would be done soon. He looked at the family picture. They were all dressed the same, which was the first giveaway. As you looked closer, you could see the family resemblance. Her father looked maybe Cuban, or Puerto Rican, with long wavy dark hair, brown eyes and tanned skin. Her mom was complete opposite. European origin- fair complected, bright green eyes, long spiral curled hair. Cross the two, and you got this beautiful family. Two older brothers and a younger sister.

"Having a good time?" He looked up and saw her standing in the doorway to her room, her suitcase behind her. He smiled at her, the pictures flashing through his mind.

"Yeah, I am."

"Well, party time's over. Let's get you back to your room."

"We could stay here, nobody would expect me to not be at the hotel. There wern't any cameramen outside your door."

"There aren't enough beds here, and you're not sleeping on my couch." She wheeled her suitcase across the living room. She didn't want him in her house. Opening the door, she waited for him to step into the hall. When he finally did, she locked the door behind him and led him back out to the car. While driving, she wanted desperately to ask him what he thought about her place, but she wouldn't. Instead it was silence. She supposed it would be an option if all hell broke loose, but she'd rather not.

"You know, I wasn't thinking about your couch," he told her, a sly crooked smile appearing. "But that's for another time," he continued when she inhaled to argue. "Let's go out tonight. Show me a good place in this city." That stopped whatever argue train she was on. She couldn't say no to that. It was part of her job for this case. Damn it all to hell. "I want to see you in something else besides your work clothes. You did bring play clothes, didn't you?" Why did his voice just get so seductive and insinuating? Damn him! Of course she brought "play clothes", in a secret pocket in her suitcase she would never reveal.

"We can go out," was all she said.

"Great! Do you mind if we get dinner first? I'm starving."

"Not a problem." They rode in silence for the rest of the way to the hotel. Pulling up, there were twice as many cameramen waiting outside the hotel. "Leaches!" she said under her breath as she opened her door. He laughed quietly before climbing out himself. She got her bag out of the trunk after shooing off the bell hop. Honestly, she just didn't want to have to take the elevator with him again. She pulled her suitcases behind her and walked with her client, questions being shouted at them both left and right as they walked into the hotel. With the quiet inside the hotel, they made their way up to his room.

"Well, it's been a long day for me, so I'd like to clean up a little before we go." She nodded, then pulling her suitcase, disappeared into the blue bedroom by the main door. She unpacked her suitcase into the dresser in her room, leaving out her outfit for the night- black mid-calf stiletto boots, a short ruffled jean skirt with lace under each layer, with a black tank top under a black lace long-sleeved cowl neck shirt. She brought her black lace underwear, outfit, makeup, shower and hair products out into the bathroom around the corner. She could hear the shower from his room on the other side of the wall. She stuck her head out of the bathroom around the corner to look into the kitchen at the other end and saw his door open a crack. Did he trust her that much already? She ducked back into her bathroom, and locked the door. The spare bathroom was amazing- she could only imagine what the master bath was like. Heated slate tile flooring, a clear glass shower with multiple jets, a huge infinity tub in the opposite corner, and a double sink across from the toilet and shower. She turned on the shower and set the water temp to 110. Letting it heat up, she undressed and stood in front of the mirror. Her light brown hair spiral curled down to her lower back, her caramel eyes and full lips- but not exaggerated like Angelina Jolie's. She did have the same bone structure though, she had to admit. She pulled a towel off of the nearby rack, and tossed it over the shower door and climbed in.

He wanted her. Wanted her bad. But she wasn't having anything to do with him. She didn't even want him calling her by her first name. She was going to be a hard chick to crack, but he vowed to have her at least once before his two weeks here were up. He stood under the spray for another minute, shook the extra water from his head and stepped out of the shower after turning it off. He stood in front of the mirror. He was one of the worlds most sought after bachelors. Why was she being so cold? He'd just have to be extra charming. He wrapped the towel around his waist and smiled at himself in the mirror. Starting tonight. He walked out of his bathroom and over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxer briefs, jeans, an undershirt, and a gray button down long sleeve shirt. He went back into his bathroom to dress in front of the mirror and psych himself out.

She was dressed, and was almost done applying her makeup. Smokey eyes, lots of lengthening mascara, red lips slick with cherry gloss. Her hair was down, bangs swept to the right. A little shimmer on her chest and cheeks, and her Romance perfume in all the key places. She put her foot up on the toilet, and strapped her gun to the high inside of her left thigh. Funny enough, she was most turned on when she was wearing something short or tight and had her gun stashed. She had her badge hanging from it's usual chain tucked under her tank top. She stood in front of the mirror and tried to find any sign of her work under her clothes, but couldn't find one. Happy with the end result, she put her watch on. Almost seven thirty on a Tuesday night. Shouldn't be too much of a wait anywhere. She had an idea of where she would take him. She thought that being with him, they'd get the VIP anywhere. At least that was one good thing about being seen with him. And holy hell how those rumors are going to fly. Probably already have with everyone outside the hotel. She opened the door and peeked out. She heard him rattling around in the kitchen. Hopefully he was getting a drink ready. She sure could use one.

He heard the door open, and his hand holding the courtesy bottle of Grey Goose froze over one of two shot glasses. He had to be smooth, but he was so curious to see what she looked like out of jeans and a t-shirt. Well, he prayed she wasn't in jeans and a t-shirt. Please let her be in something tight and revealing. He closed his eyes for a second in silent prayer, then continued to pour the liquor. He turned to the mini fridge for some kind of mixer and found cranberry juice and grape juice. He didn't know what she'd prefer, so be brought both out and turned to set them on the counter. He saw her out of the corner of her eye, standing in the doorway. He looked over his shoulder at her, and his jaw dropped as his eyes took her in. He felt like a cartoon where the tongue rolls out onto the floor and the eyes bug a foot out of the head.

"Oh, shit," he said quietly. The leather boots and black lace- damn. He wanted to bend her over the counter and take her from behind until she screamed his name. Shit! Stop! He had to think of something else to redirect the blood circulation. So he said the first thing he could think of. "You still have your gun on you?"

She had been proud of herself for keeping a straight face during his mental undressing, but now she smirked. "Of course."

He nodded. "Of course," he repeated quietly, turning back to what he desperately needed right now. He had to get her image off his mind. Of course she had her gun. Where could it be? In her boot? Behind her back? Tucked in her bra where other girls kept their cell phones? That's where her badge would be. Wait. Did she have handcuffs? Shit. There it was. He now couldn't turn away from the counter without being completely obvious. He mixed their drinks quickly.

She could sense his tension. Not angry tension, not by a long shot. This was going to be fun, and slightly cruel. She took a step into the kitchen and brought herself beside him, a hands width away. She could practically feel him vibrating. "Are you getting started early?" she asked quietly.

"Well, I know we've both had an unusual day, so I was hoping you'd take a couple shots with me."

"Why, Mr. Pattinson, are you trying to get an on duty cop inebriated?" She looked up at him through her lashes, seriousness written all over her face. His eyes read her face.

"No, officer, unless you get drunk with one shot." She wanted to play? Well game on. "Unless we're going to stay in and you handcuff me," he leaned in towards her slightly. They stared each other down for a minute. She reached for the glass, her eyes never leaving his. She threw it back and watched him, challenging. He did the same.

"Let's go." She turned, setting her glass on the counter. When she knew he was following, she opened the hotel door and let him pass. The door clicked, and they walked to the elevator.

Once they were inside, Rob said, "You know, the pops are going to have a field day with you."

"I know, it's probably already started. What they don't know might hurt them if they're not careful. What they also don't know is that I have access to a lot of information that I'll be brushing up on over the next couple of days, and if they so much as put one toe over the line, I'll charge them with as much as I can." She smiled the sweetest smile at him, and he got the chills.

"Good. That'll help me out a lot. You know what else?"

"What." She looked at the number changing above the door.

"That with us spending a week glued together, you're going to have to let your guard down eventually."

"Ha. We'll see about that." The doors dinged open and they stepped out into the lobby, and she noticed everyone stopping and staring. "I hope you don't mind that I arranged for a car. I didn't want it to be completely obvious that I'm hired." They stepped out into the flashbulbs and flying questions as her eyes scanned everything, watching and waiting for any potential danger. She was suddenly thankful for hitting the gym yesterday afternoon and following her instinct on her need to brush up on her self-defense training. The car and driver stood ready with the door open for them to slide right in, her being last. With the door closed, she could relax slightly. At least the driver knew where they were going. She sat as far from him as she could, practically sitting on the arm rest attached to the door. She didn't want to be close to him right now, not with the mood he was in. And he looked good too, damn it. His fuck me hair and gray eyes, and he smelled like the hot prelude to sex. Fuck! Why did she get stuck with him? What about Chloe or Stacey? Damn, she never did get that chance to call her boss. First thing tomorrow morning, she promised herself.

"Where is it?" he asked, bringing her mind back to him just as it was barely escaping. Why did she have to know exactly what he was talking about?

"You'll only find out if I need to use it," she told him.

"Do you even have handcuffs on you?"

No, she didn't. "Refer to the last answer."

"Shit. Okay, alright. You're a badass." She rolled her eyes and noticed that he arranged himself so he was sitting away from her. She guessed a change of strategy was coming. "Where are we going? Wait. Let me guess. You'd have to kill me if you told me."

"Ha ha. It is a surprise though. We're almost there."

"So, is this evening going to be like this the whole time? All my questions getting generalized answers?"

Ah, the guilt trip. "Generalized answers appear when the questions themselves aren't generalized."

"So what you're saying is that I'm going to be spending every minute of my next two weeks with the ice queen who has walls up everywhere and won't share anything about herself."

Unfortunately half of what he'd said was true. She looked him straight in the eye. "Not without reason, it's for the best." She could play the guilt game too. "You don't want to get tangled with a commoner like me." She looked out the window as they slowed to a stop. "We're here." Thank god for that save. But she knew this conversation wasn't over.

He watched her climb out of the car and was perverted enough to lean down and try to get a peek up her skirt. Damn, it was too dark. He did catch a whiff of her perfume though, and it was as sexy as she was. Why was she so reserved? Was she right about it being better in the end? Probably. He walked with her up to the restaurant, his mind running. But if she was going to be this reserved for the time they were together, his stay here was going to be miserable. He couldn't be bringing girls back to the hotel with a cop staying there. Not that she could say anything because she'd be consenting and not paid. He didn't roll like that anyway.

"Reservation for Lenore Grainger." The hostess's eyes popped out of her head.

"You're not Kri-"

"Our table, please," Rob interrupted, giving her one of his smiles. Seems they both had names they needed to talk about. Oh, wait. That would be too personal of a question. She wouldn't answer. He had to break her. They were seated instantly, amidst whispers and stares.

She was surprised how much attention they were getting. She squinted her eyes. Did that chick just take a picture of them on her cell? She shook her head as she placed her napkin on her lap.

"What?"

"I think that chick just took a picture."

He laughed. "That happens regularly."

"You were right," she said suddenly. She watched surprise cross his face.

"I was? About what?"

"Good evening, folks, what beverages can I start you off with? A nice bottle of wine or champagne perhaps?" Esme looked down at her menu.

"Your finest bottle of champagne, please," Rob ordered. Girls usually liked champagne.

"Very well, sir." He disappeared instantly.

"So, as you were saying?" Rob began, looking at her expectantly. Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as he originally thought.

"I don't want to make your time here completely miserable, so as long as we can keep a certain amount of professionalism, I suppose we could get to know the basics about each other, as I think it would benefit the case."

"Okay, that's a start. Is it even an option for you to come out of this case with a friend?"

She thought for a second, trying to find a way out. "I have never looked at a case as a friend in my entire professional career, but I suppose these circumstances are different than the usual life or death situation," she smiled at him shyly. He smiled back. She could keep the easy friends distance, right? She could walk that line. "There's one condition for you, though." He cocked his left eyebrow in question. The waiter returned with the bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two glasses. He set them all on the table and opened the bottle, then filled the glasses.

"Are you ready to order?" She noticed the waiter kept looking at Rob like she wasn't even there.

"Ah," he looked at Esme. She shook her head and opened her menu. "Not quite yet." The server nodded and disappeared again. "So what's my condition?" he asked, keeping his eyes on his menu.

"Well, the condition is that you can't make any sexual comments."

"Ha." Not gonna happen, he thought to himself, then actually said, "Like what kind of comments?"

"Like your earlier one. 'Your bossing is turning me on'. Or, 'You did bring play clothes, right?'"

"It was the truth, and a simple question. But I won't meet that condition because I'm going to say what I think." He gave her a crooked smile, and leaned forward a little, closing some of the space between them, and continued, looking at her mouth. "Even if that includes telling you how incredibly hot you are."

Her stomach did a flip. He did not just say that! "Well," she said quietly, leaning in towards him, stopping a breath away from his mouth, eye on his lips. "You can say as much as you want, that's your right here. But thinking you can sweet talk your way under my skirt," she looked up at him until his eyes met hers, "it's not going to work." She leaned back and smiled, then glanced around. Everyone was staring. She sipped some of her champagne casually.

"We'll see about that," he said with a smile. They sat and looked at each other, leaning back in their chairs, an unannounced staring contest, winner was going to be in charge.

It was called off when the waiter returned. "Folks?"

"I'll have the stuffed chicken," Esme said, calling attention to herself, closing the menu and handing it to the waiter.

"Very good," he nodded and looked back at Rob.

"I'll have the salmon," he said, handing over his menu.

"Excellent choices. I'll return with them shortly." He disappeared, and they resumed their silent staring contest. The waiter appeared again. "Sir, I have been notified by my manager to inform you that the bottle of champagne you're enjoying, as well as the meal and any dessert of your choice, as well as your guests, are completely complementary."

Rob looked up at the waiter, and away from Esme's eyes and smiled. "Why, thank you. How very kind. Please relay to your manager my appreciation and let them know that I will put out a good word for your establishment."

The waiter smiled. "That would be fantastic. Thank you, have a good evening, and I'll be bringing your meal shortly."

Rob returned his gaze to Esmeralda.

"Does that happen to you regularly?" she asked.

"Fairly often. Perk of the job."

"Tell me about the part of your job that concerns me, if you don't mind. My boss called it "deflecting"."

"Deflecting?" he asked with a smile appearing on his lips. Esme nodded. "That's an interesting term. All I can think of that would be anywhere close to any type of deflection, would be if rumors started with you, a beautiful woman, by my side for the next two weeks. Maybe press, or some random fans would misinterpret my body guard for my new love interest, like the hostess up there. But make no mistake, I wouldn't be offended if they thought that." A wicked grin crept out.

"What was the name she was going to say? Kri?" He raised an eyebrow in question. "I don't have time to waste with the tabloids," she said with an agitated flick of her wrist.

He sighed. "If I tell you, you have to answer me something personal." She narrowed her eyes, an internal debate warring in her mind. Did she really want to answer a personal question? Not really. Did she care who this Kri chick was? Not really. And if she wanted to know bad enough, she could probably look it up. Did she want to waste time looking it up? Not really. Guess that was a not really all around. Time for a change of subject.

"So what's the schedule looking like for tomorrow?"

"Nice evasion maneuver. Remember- one week together. I have a full day on set tomorrow. I have to be there at six am. You'll be hanging around me. Probably by the crew."

"I don't have to be in your trailer, do I?"

Another smile appeared on his face. "Only if I ask," he said quietly. "But that's going to be a majority of the schedule, at the shooting site by six, and if the weather permits, we'll be back in the hotel room about dusk. Then if I decide I want to go out or do some sightseeing, and then of course, the last day is the wrap party, which of course you'll attend with me." Their food was set in front of them, so they ate in silence for a minute.

"Fine. I'll play your game, because I feel I'd be able to protect you better if I knew more about you. A sideways, indirect way of interrogation, if you will," she said finally with a sly smile.

"Alright, you go first."

She nodded. "What was with the name the hostess said?"

Rob smiled. "Kristen. That's the name of my costar. Her and my characters are in love, and to be honest, a majority of the fans think myself and my costar should be together in real life. But by the time we're done filming, I'm ready to touch another girl. Besides, it's not like I'm like that with her anyway. She's a coworker. My turn. Hmm... So many," he took a bite and tried to decide on the most important. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Don't waste any time, huh?" She took another bite, stalling. She had a friend with benefits, but that was as close as she got to anything serious. "I don't have much time for anything, so no. Do you?"

He smiled. "See, it's not so hard. No, contrary to popular belief. How old are you?"

"Just turned twenty seven a couple weeks ago. When are you trying to go out or sightseeing again?"

He leaned in again, and smiled. "To see you like this again? Tomorrow night. What I'm looking forward to is the wrap party, with a formal dress. To think, even now, of where your badge and gun is and will be, really turns me on."

"Don't get it wrong, your a guy- most everything turns you on." An evil thought crossed her mind. Here was her next question. "If you were me, where would you keep your badge, gun, and handcuffs?"

As she smiled seductively, surprise appeared on his. "You do have hand-" he caught himself on the verge of wasting his question. "Well," his eyes swept her over.

She got that feeling of being undressed. Probably because she was.

He allowed his mind to wander, to think about what was under all the lace. "Well, I think that most girls when going out store their money and ID in their bra. I'd think you'd have those and your badge in there, and your phone on the other side. As for your gun..." he let his eyes wander down as far as the table and held his gaze there. "I bet your gun is strapped high to your soft, tanned thigh. Am I right?" His eyes came back up to her face slowly.

A slow smile spread on her face. "Half and half. One is right, one is wrong, and I'm not going to tell which." She placed the last bite of chicken in her mouth. Did she want to ask him another question? "Would you like me to tell you some time?"

"Show would be better, honestly," he said with a smile. The waiter appeared. "May I take your dishes? Would you like to try a dessert?" Rob looked at Esme, eyebrows raised.

She shook her head. "No thank you, sir."

The server nodded. "Have a great evening, and we hope you visit us again soon." He bowed slightly, then disappeared for good.

"Last question, then we can go. What was with the name you gave for the reservation?"

"A combination of my middle name and my boss's last name. Last thing I want while I'm on this case is my real name to get out." They stood up and made their way to the door, back through stares and whispers to their waiting car. "How's that jet lag working for you now?" She silently wished he was wiped and didn't want to go anywhere else.

"So far so good, but right now, a nightcap and a good movie in bed sounds like a perfect way to end the day, seeing as how I'll have to get up early tomorrow." She was so excited by his response she nearly jumped with joy.

"Okay." She leaned forward, and told the driver the next stop. She leaned back against the seat, looking out the window, forgetting who she was sitting next to, thinking about getting her flannel pajamas on and laying in a strange bed, falling asleep to the t.v. after a quick yoga routine. A small smile began to creep onto her lips until she stopped herself. She was exhausted, and made a mental reminder to herself to call Grainger in the morning and wake his ass up at five thirty to- she stopped thinking immediately when she felt eyes on her, and she tensed up reflexively.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her brow furrowed, then she relaxed, her features going neutral, then looked at him. He was studying her. Why didn't he just whip out a magnifying glass? Save himself some trouble.

"Oh, nothing in particular. What about you? Seems you've got more on your mind."

His eyes narrowed in the glow of the city lights. "Don't turn this on me. I asked you first."

She glanced out of the windshield, calculating how much time they had until they got to the hotel, then looked back at him. "Like I said- nothing in particular, just what flannel pajamas I was going to wear- oh look, we're here." She opened the door before the car came to a complete stop, standing amid the few stragling cameras, and waited impatiently for her client to step out. Unfortunately, it seems he was in the mood to piss her off and take his sweet time, moving in slow motion with a grin on his face. She bit her tongue to keep from rolling her eyes and tapping her foot, trying to distract herself with the pain.

He finally stood up flush to her, and looked into her eyes. "I will crack you," he warned quietly.

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. "I do this for a living, buddy," she whispered loudly. "You can try, but I've got years on you. Not to mention excellent interrogation skills. Now let's take this pissing match inside." She watched his left eyebrow raise and the corner of his mouth twitch, then his eyes scanned the cameras, clicking furiously, but nobody saying anything. He looked back at her for another second, then he turned and made his way into the hotel, leaving Esme to follow behind.

They rode the elevator in silence, Esme's blood heating more and more by the minute. Why was she letting such a smug jerk, standing there, hands in his pickets, looking innocent as all hell, get under her skin? And he was still smiling that stupid crooked smile. She wanted to slap it off his face so bad. By the time the elevator dinged on the top floor, her blood was boiling. And he was practically laughing. She mentally cursed him every word she could think of. She followed him into the hotel, looking left and right down the hall before closing the door behind her out of habit. As she turned around to lock the door, she bumped smack into him. She glared up into his smirking face. If her eyes could throw fire at any point in time, she chose now. Then he did the unthinkable. He brought a hand up to cup her face.

"Sweet dreams, Ms. Hale," he said quietly before turning and disappearing around the corner. A second later, still frozen where she was, she heard his door click shut quietly. Another second later, his t.v. came on and she was still standing where he'd left her. She suddenly started shaking with rage, and went to her room, careful not to slam the door, even as bad as she wanted to. Couldn't give him the satisfaction. She did pick up a plastic ice bin from her bathroom counter, and throw it against the side of her bed. Panting, she quickly changed into her yoga attire, and had one of the most fierce workouts of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Esme woke to the alarm set on her phone, playing one of her favorite songs, 'Get Up And Go'. She flipped on the light in the bathroom and ran the water in the sink to splash her face. In her home, she'd have made a bee line for the fridge, to grab her first morning caffeine fix, a Cherry Dr. Pepper. But, she looked reluctantly at the water, she would have to make due with this at least until she was dressed and could get coffee from the kitchen. After patting her face dry, she began applying her makeup- a little more than usual, since she was going to be out and about. Burgundy lipstick under clear gloss, light blush, brown shadow, eyeliner, lengthening msacara. A touch up of the eyebrows, then it was time to get dressed. She pulled out a pair of well-fitting jeans, tennis shoes, a white tank top under a snug white t-shirt, her ususal work attire. Reaching for her badge, she slipped it around her neck and tucked it under her tank top. After strapping on her holster, she tugged on a short black leather jacket to hide the gun on her right side. She pulled her hair up into a long curly pony tail, shorter strands coming loose to frame her face. She grabbed her sunglasses and placed them on the top of her head, then stuffed her credit card and ID in the inside zipper pocket of her coat. She picked up her phone and looked at the clock. Five thirty. Perfect.

She cracked her door slowly, and stuck her head out. It was still dark, but for the faint glow coming from the kitchen. He was in his room, up, but hadn't been to the kitchen. Rude. She opened her door and went to the kitchen, flipping on the nearest light. Making her way to the coffee pot, she found the grounds in a little bag, sitting in the filters for the coffee maker. Assembling the coffee, she hit the brew now button. As soon as the coffee maker started bubbling and the aroma began to waift, his door opened. He stood in the doorway, half naked. Jeans sitting low over his still shower-wet hips, revealing her V of weakness- she turned away from him and started digging through the cupboards looking for a coffee mug. She refused to let her mind think of his chiseled, glistening chest, or his gray eyes, or his wild hair. Shit. Her mind finally comprehended the mugs it had passed over five times in front of her face, unintentionally reaching up on her toes, stretching, she pulled it down. She felt his eyes on her. Shit. Snatching the mugs and slamming the cupboard, she placed them on the counter, praying silently for the coffee maker to finish it's seemingly eternal process.

"Morning," he said, voice rough with sleep, that stupid lopsided grin on his face.

Did he just have that expression plastered on his face? "Morning," she said shortly. She took the pot before it was complete, and filled her cup, then dumped in the sugar and cream. She didn't even bother to stir as she took a scalding sip and slid the other cup towards him.

"Thanks. Smells great."

"Welcome. Fifteen minutes." Without another glance at him, she retreated back to her room. She had a call to make.

Closing her door, she waited until she couldn't hear him in the kitchen anymore, then for the click of his door. When she got that confirmation, she pulled out her phone.

He ansered on the third ring. "Hale! Is everything okay?"

She knew she'd woken him. Good. "Fuck no, Grainger. Why the hell did you put me on this case? I am not a damn call girl!" She hissed into the phone. "I want to be taken off this case, regardless of how much he's paying. He's an arrogant son of a bitch with a constant smirk that I want to slap off his face every time I see him. Put another girl on. I refuse to go any farther with this," she whispered loudly.

"Hale! Please, I'm begging you. You know I can't put another girl on the case, you're the best I got. Besides. None of them look like you, and he specifically requested the best looking of my squad-"

"I just got done telling you, Grainger, I'm not a fucking call girl! I'm a cop. Not a- "I hope you brought play clothes" toy."

"Did he really say that?"

"Yes." She let the whispered venom hang before continuing. Her heart was racing, getting more and more worked up.

"Listen, Hale," he said, pausing. She knew the kissing ass part was next. "I'll let you have a week's paid vacation anywhere after this, out of my cut. All expenses paid."

She hesitated, letting him think she was actually considering it. As if she could be bribed. "You listen, Grainger, put someone else on. I don't need a stupid vacation. I want off this case-" she heard a knock on her door, her eyes shot to the clock. Time to go. Shit. "Just a minute!" She called sweetly.

"Grainger," she dropped her voice again. "Find a replacement for me within the hour or I quit your squad." She snapped the phone shut, shook her head a couple times and took two deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Two hours, she reminded herself. She prayed that Grainger took her seriously.  
She opened her door, to find him standing there, waiting. She hoped he hadn't heard any of her conversation. She'd tried her best to keep it quiet. Even if he had, he was doing a good job of not looking offended. But that's what he did for a living, right? She rolled her eyes and opened the door to the hall, letting him follow.

Once they were in the elevator, he said, "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. You?" She asked, trying to be civil, and not reveal the ice she wanted to show.

"Well enough."

"Good." She gave a brisk nod, then led him to the doors. She saw the valet scrambling to open the car doors. Obviously Grainger had arranged for the car to be ready at 5:45. Nice. She took in the paparazzi waiting to pounce outside, their cameras poised at the door through the glass separating them. There were also a few handfuls of girls, a couple with homemade signs even. It was her turn to smirk. He probably jerked off to the attention. Rolling her eyes, she made note of everyone's hand locations, looking for anything suspicious before she burst through the doors like a bull in a china shop. She kind of hoped that the door hit him in the face. Of course, with her luck, it didn't. The second he stepped through the final set of doors, the madness errupted. The volume went up twenty times, just in the girl's screams alone. Questions being shouted, cameras flashing. Then things began to happen all at once, all in slow motion. When things like this began to happen, it was always her experience that something bad was going to happen.

She stopped in her tracks immediately and did a three sixty. Finding the source commotion, she turned towards him, place her hands flat on his chest, fisted in his white tee shirt, but never looking away from the action, and pulled him flush against her and felt his breath caress her neck with the force of the pull, as she watched the girl break through the second line of paparazzi. As she began coming through the first line, she pushed him back, then lunged towards the girl getting ready to leap for him. She took a step forward and caught the girl right after her jumping take off, and grabbed her by her upper arms. Esme spun around so she had the girl over her right shoulder, and immediately flipped the girl. With her defense mechanisms kicking in automatically, she brought the girl to the ground, two feet from him, pinning her with her knee on the girl's chest.

"Get in the car." She told him, her eyes staying on the girl. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and watched him dash the last couple of steps to the car without hesitation. Once the door was closed after him, she looked down at the girl. Her brown eyes were wild and unfocused. She obviously wasn't in controll of herself.

"Listen to me," Esme shook the girl gently, trying to get her attention. "He's gone. You made a _great_ first impression for yourself. Now stay away from him." She stood up and looked around quickly, all the cameramen had shocked expressions on their faces, the rest of the crowd stilled silent, watching her. Some with fascination, some slightly scared. "Go get a life," she told them, then rounded the hood of the car and climbed in. She pulled away from the curb quickly, glancing in the rearview. The crowd was stairing after them. Then he slid into her line of view in the mirror, his hand running through his hair repeatedly.

"That was bloody amazing," he said, his accent thick. "Thank you. Really. I think you just might have saved my life," he sighed, looking at her in the mirror. She brought her eyes back to the road, and pulled her glasses down to hide her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline racing through her system.

"Not a problem," she said quietly.

After a minute, he told her the location of the shoot. She nodded and mentally mapped out her quickest possible route. About another five later, he said almost inaudibly, "Please don't quit."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, then drew together instantly. Shit. He'd heard. "I'm sorry, Mr.-" she hesitated, trying to get her mouth to say his name. "Pattinson, but I don't think I'm qualified-" she began, saying the first thing that popped into her head.

"Don't lie to me. You're more than qualified, obviously with that last display." He slid up in between the front two seats, hands on the corners of the seats, leaning in towards her. Too close for her comfort. Fortunately she had the task of driving to keep herself from getting lost in his eyes. "You were incredible there- I didn't think you could-"

Why did she have to feel his breath on her neck? But it didn't matter now, as he'd already started pushing her buttons with the last five words out of his mouth. But if she was going to stick with her story, as false as it was, she had to agree with him.

"I know, 'cause I'm a girl, right?" She saw him shrug a shoulder. "I'm a cop, remember?"

"Wouldn't be able to forget that now," he said quietly.

"And don't even start to tell me how that turned you on in some weird way," she interjected.

"But it did- not at the moment, but after-"

"I knew it! I knew it."

"You have an hour left?" He said after glancing at the clock on the dash. She nodded, and pulled up at the back side of a trailer and threw the car into park. "What if I promised I wouldn't say anything again about how you turn me on. Would you stay? Turns out, I guess I kind of need you," he said softly, his fingers dancing on the corner of the seat closer to her. If she didn't know better, it looked like he was restraining himself from touching her, which was more than he did last night. "I'll respect your boundaries, okay?" She didn't say anything. "Please, at least think about it?"

"Maybe. You need to get to work or I'll get my ass chewed for making you late." She hopped out of the car, glanced around, taking in the placement of everything, went to his door and opened it, waiting for him to get out.

"Please?" he asked.

"Boundaries," was all she said, and he immediately took a step back with a nod.

"Let's go." She led him closely through the crowd of crews, to the door of his trailer, the one with the big sign with his name on it. She knocked, and when the door opened, an older lady appeared.

"There you are Robert!" she exclaimed, looking past Emse as if she was invisible, and nearly pulled him in.

"Officer Hale?" He asked, eyes questioning, half inside the door.

"I'll be around. Anything changes, I'll let you know." He dropped his eyes, then nodded, and disappeared into the trailer.

She made her way leasurely around the trailer, noting everyone's locations and jobs, weaving around people slowly, letting her mind turn over his use of "Officer Hale". Did he mean it?

"Hale? Hale!"

She spun around towards the sound of the familiar voice. Shit. "Why?" she groaned. "Why here, now?" She plastered on a fake smile. "Hey Weston," she said. Ugh, this guy grated her nerves. She watched him trot up to her, wearing the usual blue uniform. "How's it going?"

He gave her what he thought was his most winning smile. "Great. Working security for the movie going on here." He pulled on his belt and rocked back on his heels, trying to seem important.

"Oh yeah? Lucky you," she said watching her wording very carefully.

He grinned. "Yeah, Leutenant told me it was a pretty important job. But hey, I havent seen you around the precinct in a while. What you been up to?"

Since it was mean to say her first instinctual response- avoiding you- she said, "I've been busy with a case."

"Oh yeah? Can you say who you're protecting?"

Again she went with her second response, and shook her head no, knowing it wouldn't be a big deal if she had said. She imagined if he passed a t.v. with the news some time soon, he'd probably see her, what with all the cameras around.

"Oh." His face fell a little. "Well," he perked back up immediately. "Since I have your attention, would you want to go out for coffee after the shift?"

"Weston, I really don't like to keep turning you down, but I'm not interested. It's just not a good time for me. I'm sorry."

"It's cool, no problem. Maybe next time," he said with a cocky smile, except his made him look slightly constipated.

"Ah, about that-" just then, the trailer door opened. Esme watched Weston watch Rob make his way towards them, and a frown appear at the corner of his mouth. She laughed inwardly.

"Officer Hale?" He leaned in to her and said- "Is he bothering you?" He motioned towards Weston. She watched Weston's expression turn to surprise.

"Not yet, but thank you for your generous offer. Ready?" she asked Rob, still facing Weston.

"Yes."

"Sorry, Weston, duty calls," she shrugged, turned around, and lead Rob through the circle of crewmembers. Once she deemed he was safe on the set, she hung back in the crew behind the camera, and continually surveyed the crowd, eyes never stopping. She even occasionally saw Weston drifting around, directing people to keep moving, a little crowd and traffic control. She felt her phone vibrate a minute later, so she fished it out of her jacket pocket, and looked at the ID. Just the person she was thinking about calling. She flipped it open.

"Hale," she said.

"Hale. _Please_ tell me you've changed your mind. Tammi is just not right for your job. Take two seconds and compare yourselves, without being modest. And then, picture yourself on that sandy beach, two weeks from today. My offer still stands, Hale." After a pause with no response, he sighed. "I can have Tammi replace you within fifteen minutes, it's just a matter of her finding a bathroom to change out of her uniform." He waited, the silence stretching. Esme had known her answer the whole time. She just like to make her boss sweat. Her eyes swept the crowd one more time, then her eyes locked with her clients'. He glanced at the phone in her hand, then tapped his left pointer finger to his temple, then turned away, back to work. "You still there Hale?"

"I want to go to Spain."

"Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus! First class all the way."

"Better be, after this." She hung up the phone and dropped it back into her pocket. She waited a minute, a scheme forming in her mind. When he glanced at her again, she gave him a slow wave, then took a couple steps back, being swallowed by the crowd. She watched him search the crowd for her, and smiled wickedly. She quickly made her way around the back of his trailer, appearing on the front line of the crowd directly behind him. She watched him scan where he'd last saw her occasionally, feeling smug. When the director called for a break, she rushed back around the trailer, to be standing casually by his door, watching him the entire time. She pretended to examine her nails, but watching through her lashes.

"Esme! Sorry. Officer Hale! I thought you left. Wait. Are you formally resigning?" He shook his head. "I have to have my make up touched up. Come in."  
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I won't try anything. Swear." He climbed the stairs to the trailer and opened the door, and looked to Esme, hoping. Finally she follwed him.

"One wrong move and I swear-"

"You'll flip me like the girl at the hotel?" He smiled that annoying smile, and raised an eyebrow.

"Do _not_finished that thought. I already know where your mind is going. Don't make me get angry at you. And no, I'm not formally resigning. Two weeks from today I'll be on a beach in Spain, first class, courtesy of my boss. I took his offer not to quit." A huge grin appeared on his face as he sat down and let his make up artist work.

"A bribe? Can you bribe cops?"

She leaned against the counter in front of him on his left, facing him. "Don't get it twisted. My replacement was here, all she needed was my go ahead to change out of her uniform." She paused and let that hang a minute, wanting it to sink in on how close she was about leaving. It's just that she'd always wanted to go to Spain, find her heratage, a beach with a hot guy, and a little bit of alcohol. "But it really wasn't a bribe because I had already made up my mind by the time he called back. That turned out to be a perk from my boss's pocket." She grinned evilly, then it vanished. "But don't think for two seconds that you're not walking a fine line." She flicked a glance at the artist, who was obviously pretending to not listen. Esme straightened. "I'll be outside." She showed herself out, glad to be out of that stuffy trailer. She waited at the bottom of the stairs, and escorted him back to his set when he was ready.

It happened two more times, to and from the trailer, and finally he was free to go. She waited for him to get into his street clothes, and join her outside in the darkening streets. She led him quietly to their car.

In an effort on her part to be social, she inquired about his day, even though she was there for most of it

"How was your day for you?" She asked him in the rearview mirror as she made her way into traffic.

"Are you being nice?"

"If you can attempt to respect my boundaries, I can attempt to be personable."

"Do I still have to have the 'Officer' in there?"

"Until further notice."

He nodded. "It was good, thank you. Fun. We got a lot done, it's a good cast and crew."

"What's the name and story of the movie?"

"It's called 'Remember Me', and it's about a guy who doesn't get a long with his dad and gets in a fight and meets the cop's daughter. I really can't say more than that."

"Okay, well, sure." She continued driving, and then saw the swarm that was waiting for them outside the hotel. "Hold on." She turned left immediately, and pulled out her phone to dial the hotel. "Good evening, my name is Officer Esmeralda Hale, badge number 713029. I'm returning to the hotel with one of your current guests, and there is a mob at the front door. I am requesting a valet at the back entrance of the hotel." She paused, slowing the car to pull along side the curb.

"We can have a valet available in five minutes at your requested entrance."

"Thank you." She flipped the phone shut and dropped it back into her pocket. She checked all of her mirrors, to make sure no one was approaching them. So far so good. She glanced at the clock. It was not going to take four minutes to pull around the corner. She looked at her client in the back seat in her mirror again. "Just for refrence, are you planning on going anywhere tonight?"

"Actually, I hadn't even thought about it. But now that you mention it,I am kind of tired. I think I'll just hit the gym in the hotel for a bit after some room service dinner."

"Alright. Sounds easy enough. Would you mind if I joined you in the gym, or would you prefer if I guarded the door from the hall?" She kept a straight face, wondering how strong his restraints would be if he let her work out- tank top, tight cotton pants, pony tail, sweaty. Maybe she could convince him to do a little sparring and remind him she could kick his ass. She smiled inwardly at that. She'd have to watch herself though, and control the head shots. Couldn't put a black eye on his pretty face.

"I wouldn't mind sharing the gym. You probably could even give me some pointers." He smiled innocently into the mirror.

"Sure. Thanks." She glanced at the clock. It was time. She looked behind her, then pulled around the corner to the waiting valet at the back door. She parked and rounded the car while the valet opened her client's door. She walked with him into the hotel as her company car pulled away. They took the service elevator up to his floor and went to his door, no conversation. He slid the key through the reader, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Not two steps in- "Stop." She said firmly. He froze mid step. "Someone's been in here. A girl. The perfume. Can you smell it?"

"No..."

She closed the door behind her. "Stay here." She reached for her gun, and went into full police mode, sweeping the room, starting with her room. She flicked on the light, swept her room, then closed the door. She moved to the kitchen, eyes grazing, looking for anything out of place. Nothing. She looked over the pony wall into the living room, still nothing out of place. She continued through the kitchen and into his room. This was obviously one of the targets. It was trashed. His bed was stripped, and everything was missing. His clothes were out of the crooked, open dresser drawers and thrown carelessly on the floor and bare bed. She looked around his room, then continued on to his bathroom. Same as his room. Bottles knocked over, his grooming supplies scattered on the floor. She checked the shower. Empty. She went back to her room, where her client was still standing patiently by the door. "You're room and bathroom are trashed, but no one's there." She opened her door and looked around again once moore, then checked her bathroom. Nothing was touched. She went back out to him, and put her gun away. "I'm going to take some pictures of your room, and call over my Leutenant so they can try to see if there's any fingerprints. Right now, I want you to go in there, don't touch anything, but see if anything, besides the obvious, is missing. Any of your personal belongings."

"The obvious?"

She couldn't help it. She found it highly amusing. "Who ever was here, and I don't think it was room service, took the bedding from your bed." She grinned. "I think someone is obsessed." He rolled his eyes and moved past her. She followed him in, again pulling out her phone, calling her boss.

"Remember, don't touch anything. We're looking for fingerprints. We don't need more of yours," she told her client as the phone rang.

"Fuck me," he mumbled.

From behind him, she watched him fist his hands in his hair as he looked around the room.

"Grainger. We've had a B & E in our hotel room. We just walked it and I smelled the perfume, so I swept the rooms by the book. His room and bathroom are trashed. I'm going to take some pictures after our conversation. You need to send a sweeper team as soon as possible."

"Shit Hale, already? It's barely been twenty four hours."

"I know. There was an incident earlier today, I'm sure if you watch TMZ tonight you'll probably see it."

"What happened? Was it bad?"

"Just an altercation. We were leaving the hotel for the set this morning, and some girl jumped over the front line of paparazzi, trying to get to the guy. I intercepted, cought her, flipped her and pinned her to the ground while he jumped into the car. Like I said, I'm sure it'll be on some show."

"I'll watch it and record it. Thanks for the heads up."

"No prob. Send the team."

"On it."

She shut the phone and went to his bathroom. "I'm going to get my camera." He only nodded, crouched down, looking eye level at the bottles spread on the counter. She dashed to her room and dug her camera out of her bag, then ran back and began snapping pictures of his room, slowly working the angles. A couple minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, looking dazed. She looked him over. His hair was even more messy than usual, the product in his hair making it stick together in clumps. She didn't want to shake his hand. "Hey," she said softly, trying to get his attention. She waited until he finally focused on her. "Anything missing?"

"Just my cologne." He shook his head in disbelief. He looked at the bed. "Is it safe to sit?"

"Sure."

"You know, I think about it, and I think between the two events today, I would rather have the girl this morning tackle me. At least I could feel that, and get it over with. This, it's like someone's breathing down my neck and I can't do a thing about it. But I feel better with you here, as corny as that sounds." He gave her a half smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Good. Then I'm doing some of my job," she gave him a reassuring smile. There was a knock on the door. "Why don't you come sit on the couch so they can talk to you while the crew looks for prints." He nodded, pushed himself up and made his way to the living room couch. She followed, then went to the door. With one last glance at his profile on the couch, she looked out the peep hole on the door. Seeing blue uniforms, she unlocked the door and let them in. "Officers," she flashed them her badge, then let the two older men in. Closing the door behind them, they turned to her.

"Briefing?"

"Sure. We arrived here back from the set about half an hour ago now, where the victim, Mr. Pattinson, works a couple blocks away. Upon entering this room, a couple steps in I noticed the scent of a female's perfume that wasn't my own. I told him to stay put, and I swept the rooms, textbook. My room, bathroom, living room and kitchen were all untouched. His room was the target. The bedding on his mattress was stripped, pillows and all were taken, down to the fitted sheet. I had him look around and see if anything else was missing, and he noticed that it was only his cologne. I took some digital pictures." She lifted her camera and proceeded to take the memory card out and turn it over.

"Thanks."

"I called the Leutenant before I took the pictures. Mr. Pattinson is expecting you," she showed them to the living room. They nodded and made their way to him. She went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. There was another knock on the door. She went to the door, then looked through the peep hole. More uniforms. She let them in. The forensics team.

"Gentlemen," she said. "This way." She led them to the bedroom and bathroom.

"The sheets are missing?" One of the men said in disbelief.

"And his cologne. Everything is as we found it." The nodded, and she left them to work. Another knock on the door sounded. Now who could it be? Everyone she needed was here. She went to the door and looked out of the hole one more time. Of course. Why should she not expect this?  
She opened the door. "Grainger," she nodded, letting him into the circus. She closed the door behind him.

"Everything going okay?" He asked her quietly.

"So far. He's dazed, feels understandably violated. I think it might be a good idea to move to another room, you know?"

He nodded. "That's not a bad suggestion. I'll work on it. What about this morning?"

"It wasn't that big of a deal, but it definitely cought me off guard. Those people are crazy out there! I don't envy him at all. Follow me." She led him into the kitchen and began pouring cups of coffee. "My first instinct tells me that it was the girl who tried to jump him this morning that I tackled."

"I found the show you were talking about and set my DVR for it. I'm looking forward to seeing it for myself. I'm sure it was impressive up close and personal."

"Honestly, it was kind of fun. It's been a while since I've been able to do that." She smiled, and moved to get the creamer out of the fridge, and back to the cups. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it was that girl. She wasn't too happy that I interruppted her plans."

"Now, I know you know the process- even if we get some readable prints, we're not going to find her unless she a registered offender, or in the child safety program where they take prints."

"I know. That's the hard part. I'm hoping this is a one time thing- she got what she wanted, and is done. Let's run the prints, and if nothing turns up like it probably will, I think it'd be best to move rooms."

"That sounds like a decent plan." The two sweepers came out, holding maybe five plastic bags containing slides with fingerprints.

"Find anything?" She asked them. They leaned on the door frame.

"We found a few prints, and we'll run them, do the best we can. I've seen a lot of stuff on the job, but taking the sheets? That's just weird." He shrugged. "I'll get this on to the lab. Connor, lets go."

"Thanks, guys, for getting here so quick," Esme told them.

"No problem. See you 'round." They showed themselves out. Two down in the room of the circus. She made two more cups of coffee, gave two to her boss, and took two herself. She nodded her head towards the living room. Grainger followed behind her, passing out the coffee to the two officers, while Esme handed a cup to her client, who took it gratefully, and then the last to her boss. She then went back into the kitchen to get her cup, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. The extra officers addressed both her and the Leutenant.

"So we have Mr. Pattinson's statement, which we'll pass along to you, Leutenant, as soon as we get back to the station. Mr. Pattinson's and Officer Hale's stories are the same. Leutenant, sir, the forensics team already left?"

"Yes," Grainger said. "They're on their way back to the lab as we speak."

"Great. We'll meet them over there and start putting the files together. We'll grab the security tapes on our way out- unless there was anything else you needed from us this evening," he looked at Esme. Grainger did too.

All eyes were on her. She looked to her client. He shook his head ever so slightly. "I think we're good here, officers. I appreciate you responding so quickly. I'll be in contact." They nodded. She stood up to show the officers out. "Thank you again," she said, closing the door behind them. She sighed, then returned back to her spot on the couch.

"So how do you feel, Hale? Comfortable enough?" She knew what he was talking about. Being alone again, knowing the 'sheet stealer' was still around.

She met his eyes. "Yes. I have my weapon ready if necessary," she told him.

"Okay. And Mr. Pattinson, I apologize for this horrible inconvenience. Like the officers said, we'll be on top of this, in contact. If you'd like, we can have you relocated. Just let us know." He looked at Esme. "The slightest oddity, call me." She nodded, then stood to show him out also. After he left, she began the task of washing out the mugs left from the guests. She glanced over her shoulder at him, still sitting on the couch, quiet. She dried the cups and put them away quickly, then went to sit on the other couch and faced him. This was going to be tricky. He was vulnerable. Vulnerable people become clingy. And emotional. She didn't know how much of him she could fend off being vulnerable and clingy, and her feeling partially responsible, sympathetic, and protective. Damn it was going to be tricky.

"I'll call room service and get you some new bedding. I should also probably have our food orders ready so I can make one call," she said, trying to keep her voice light, trying to keep the night on track and as normal as possible. "Did you know what you wanted?"

"I'm not really hungry anymore," he said quietly. She studied his face for a minute. His eyes were downcast. She wished she knew what he liked, to get it for him. She stood up and went to the phone on the table and selected the room service menue. Should she go guy safe, and get pizza? But they were going to work out, and he had fish yesterday. Healthy? Chicken salad? Maybe a steak? So difficult. She closed her eyes and ran her finger over the menue in circles, then stopped randomly and opened her eyes. Lemon pepper chick on brown rice with vegetables. Okay, neutral enough. She did it again, in bigger circles, then stopped. Chicken alfredo. Meh. One more time. She circled, then opened her eyes. Lasagna. Hmm- that one had potential. Lemon chicken and lasagna. She could live with either of those. They were pretty much guraranteed to be good regardless. She picked up the phone.

"Hello, we're in suite 1209, and I'd like to place a room service order, and request a new set of bedding, please," she told the receptionist.

"Yes, ma'am. How can we help you?"

"We need a new set of sheets- everything from the fitted sheet to the comforter to pillows."

"Certainly, ma'am. Right away."

"And as for dinner, I'd like to order a full plate of the meat lasagna, and a full plate of lemon pepper chicken."

"Alright ma'am, that was a new set of bedding, a plate of lasagna and a plate of lemon pepper chicken to suite 1209."

"Yes, that's correct. Thank you so much."

"Thank you, ma'am. They will be up shortly."

"Thanks." She hung up, and went back to the couch. "Did you want to change for the gym while we wait for the food? I just guessed, by the way. You can have whichever you prefer, as I like them both."

"Listen, Officer Hale, I appreciate everything, really," he finally looked up at her. She could see the worry in his eyes. "But I think Leutenant Grainger's suggestion might be the answer. To move to a different suite." He looked down at his hands again.

"While I do think," _my_ suggestion! "that it's an option, I think that so soon after the incident would be almost predictable. I think, if you really want, we could move tomorrow night, late. Let things settle a bit, wait it out. Until then, we need to go on normally, don't give them the satisfaction of inturrupting." She watched him contemplate this for a minute.

"You're right. We should go on as normal as possible." He looked back up at her. "I'm still not really hungry, though," he tried to smile.

"If this'll help you rest, I'll make arrangements for us to switch suites tomorrow night."

"Thanks, Officer Hale. I appreciate it." She tried to read his expression. It did seem to help, as she felt his mood lift a couple degrees.

"Good. Should we get ready? I could show you a couple self-defense moves," she smiled. "Or maybe you'd like to throw a couple punches?" She grinned, challenging.

He looked at her a moment, then smiled. "Okay. The punching does sound fun," he admitted.

She laughed. "Okay. Back in ten." She stood up and disappeared into her room, but leaving the door open a crack this time, partially listening for the door. She grabbed her light gray yoga pants, a sports bra, and a tight light pink tank top. She dashed into her bathroom and undressed quickly. She spritzed herself she sweated with her body spray, dressed, then applied more deoderant and twisted her pony tail up into a bun. She put her shoes back on, slipped her badge under her bra, strapped her gun to her ankle, grabbed her ipod, and slipped back into the living room. He was gone. Good. Hopefully he would be quick.

A knock sounded. She dashed to the door, excited for the food. Looking out of the peep hole, there were a couple of girls, looking to be a little younger than her. She cracked the door to about half her body, curious.

"Good evening, ladies. How can I help you this fine evening?" She looked them over. A couple years younger than her, high heels, short skirts, low-cut tops. One was blonde, the other brunette, both cute, lots of make-up. The blonde had obviously fake breasts. He didn't order any call girls, did he? Would he?

The blonde snapped her gum and looked Esme up and down, then raised an eyebrow. "We're looking for Rob. Do you know where he is? Are you his personal trainer?

"Ah, no and no. I don't know any 'Rob'. I'm pretty sure you have the wrong room."

Esme watched the girls faces fall a little. "Oh," the brunette pouted.

Not as willing to give up so easy, the blonde said, "We have a present to give him. We heard he was in this suite." Esme raised an eye brow. From who?

"Oh yeah? And who's giving out my suite number? I'm just wondering 'cause I think I'll have to correct them. See, I think I heard about this 'Rob' that you're talking about. But I got this suite this afternoon when I checked in, and the lady at the counter said I was lucky 'cause I was the one to stay here after a 'Rob'. I wonder if it's the same guy?"

"Yeah, it was a chick at the front desk, but she worked last night. We heard he was in town, and we wanted to visit, welcome him back."

"Hmmm. Sorry, I don't think I can help. I think you missed him," she said apologetically. She made a mental note to have Officer Bradly get the surveillance tapes for shifts last night to try to find a girl her age.

"Well, alright, thanks. Sorry to bother you," the brunette said, and turned to leave, grabbing her friends arm and towing her away towards the elevators. She closed the door. Did that happen often? Random girls knocking on his hotel room door? She turned to wait in the living room to ask, but instead smacked into him. She looked him over. Long gym shorts and a white t-shirt, and sneakers.

"Shit!" she exclaimed.

"That was a nice show. You're sure you're not an extra from the studio?"

She rolled her eyes. "Does that happen often? Girls knocking on your door?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Sometimes. Depends a lot on where I am. I've noticed American girls are a little more bold than most," he said with a small smile.

"Really." She narrowed her eyes at him for a second. "You didn't hire them, did you?"

He laughed softly. "Officer Hale, that is one of the funniest things I've heard all day. I don't have to "hire" any girls to sleep with me, if that's what you're insinuating."

"That's _exactly_ what I'm insinuating. Anyway, the blonde said there was a girl working the desk last night that was giving out your room number. I'm going to call my Leutenant and tell him to get the other officers to get those tapes, and to yell at the hotel manager. Maybe it was the girl who came in here. She'd know how to get access to this room." She gave a wicked smiled. Then a knock came again. She looked out of the hole again, and saw the chef with their cart of food, and the maid behind him. Perfect. She didn't want any more surprise excitement today. She opened the door, wrote a tip on the ticket and signed it, gave it back to the guy, and took the cart. At first he looked surprised, but he shrugged his shoulders and released control of the cart. She pushed it passed him into the room, then returned to the hall.

"Can I have the bedding, please?" she asked the maid. She got another confused look, but she slowly handed Esme the sheets and comforter, so in turn she passed them to her client, and then took the pillows. "Thank you!" she told the maid, then closed the door, not wanting anyone else to come in tonight. This room, as far as she was concerned, was on lock down. Which gave her another idea, but it would have to wait a couple minutes. She took the pillows into the room and set them onto the bed, with him close behind, mimicking her by placing the sheets on the bed. She went back out to the cart of food, pushed it to the living room, and began placing the plates on the living room coffee table, and then grabbed a couple bottles of water from the mini fridge. She set them down on the table, and uncovered the plates, revealing the food she'd ordered. "What would you prefer?" She asked him as he sat down. "Eat. I have to make a couple phone calls." She took the phone out from the inside of her tank top and flipped it open, then called her boss.

"Grainger. I just had a couple girls come knocking on our door, looking for Mr. Pattinson. They said they had gotten the suite number from a girl who worked the front desk last night. Can we get Bradley to get the surveillance tapes for last nights shift to see if we can get an ID? Maybe some finger prints to see if she was the one that came in earlier?"

"I'm sorry you were interrupted again, but this may be a lead. Good job in letting me know."

"I'm also, when we're done, going to call the front desk and let them know no one is to enter, room service, maids, cleaning, unless I place a call to have it done. This room is on lock down."

"I support that idea one hundred percent. Good work, Hale, I'll have Bradley back over there ASAP."

"Great. We ordered some room service, and we're going to hit the gym in a minute. Work out some aggression."

"Alright. Keep me updated."

"Will do." She snapped her phone shut and put it back.

"Lock down, huh?"

"Yes." She stood up and went back to the phone on the table. "Good evening. I would like to put a note on our room that it is not to be serviced in any way unless it is requested from this line."

"Yes ma'am. I'll make that note in our system right now."

"Thank you. Also, I'd like a different suite for tomorrow night, if you have one available. To switch."

"Okay, let me check our availability." She listened to the lady typing on her computer. "Ma'am?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Ma'am, my computer is showing that we have no availble suites. Due to the movie being filmed a couple blocks down, all we have available beginning tomorrow night is a single Queen room."

Esme laughed out loud. "I'm sorry. Can I think about it for a minute and call you back if we decide to take it?"

"Certainly. Was there anything else you needed?"

"No. Thank you." She hung up the phone.

He looked at her, a bite of lasagna half way to his mouth. "What's so funny?"

"They don't have another suite available for tomorrow night. All they have is a single Queen room!" She laughed, brushing it off. Wasn't even an option. Then she looked at him. He wasn't laughing. She straightened up. Shit. He was considering it. Of course he would. Duh. To sleep in the same bed as her?

"We could make a pillow line, if you'd feel better about it." He gave that smirk of a smile, as if challenging her. Would it be better to take him back to her place so they didn't have to share a room, let alone a bed? But her home was even more personal.

"Fine. But the second you try something funny- you know what? I'll just request a cot-"

"Don't be rediculous. We're two grown people who can control ourselves. Right?"

She snorted, then walked over to the other couch and picked up her plate of chicken and began eating quickly, trying to get to the gym. She called the front desk, and reserved that room for tomorrow night. Until then, she knew if she were in his situation, she would not want to be in a room that had been vandalized earlier. They would have to either share her bed for tonight. Looks like that imaginary pillow line was going into effect early.

Grabbing her bottle of water, "Ready?" she asked him. He smiled and nodded, standing, then following her to the gym. It was already getting close to ten, so it was going to be a quick, but strenuous workout. Maybe a bunch of sit ups, a short run, then the combat. Should she be nice and let him win?

He slid his card in, and opened the private gym on his floor. "So, what's you're usual routine?" she asked him.

"Running, free weights, sit ups, mostly. What do you want to do? With your training, I'm sure you're more advanced than I am."

"Well, I was just thinking, since it's already getting late, that we just run a couple miles, do some ab work, then do a little of the combat. Offense, defense."

He smiled. "That sounds great."

"Do you usually have music?"

"Yeah. I have it. You want me to plug it in?"

"Definitely. Blast it." She went to the treadmills while he went to the music station and plugged in his iphone. Esme recognized Godsmack instantly, and smiled as she set the speed. She walked a minute, waiting for her client to catch up with her. "Two miles?" she asked when he appeared on the treadmill next to her.

"Sure," he said, setting his pace. She couldn't help but notice he was going quite a bit slower than her. When she hit the mile and a half mark, she sped it up so she could run full out.

He watched her in the mirror in front of them, her eyes down, watching the distance tick by as she ran. He noticed the sweat start to appear on her forehead, and some curls stick to her face as it became flushed. Her breathing became deep and paced, unaware of him watching her. He wondered if she looked like that when she was in the heat of the moment. He smiled mentally, committing her image to memory. He looked down at his own treadmill, and began to undress her mentally. He tried to keep his eyes down, not wanting to give himself away. She'd quit for sure if she knew.

She slowed down to a walk, and glanced at him in the mirror. Was he sleep walking? Should she interrupt him? She wasn't quite sure what to do. And she didn't want to say his name aloud. Well, if he programmed the treadmill, it'd stop when his two miles were done, so she just had to kill time until then. She sat down on a mat and began to stretch, not wanting to do any core work or combat without him. After a couple minutes and a couple different stretches, she was sitting with her legs in almost a splits position, with her forehead on the floor between her legs when she noticed shoes in front of her. She looked up at him. "Ready?" He nodded, watching her. "How about a few sit ups, then some boxing?"

"Sure." She stood up, and they each went to a weight bench and sat down. They tucked their toes under the bar.

"How many do you usually do?"

"Lets's start with fifty, go from there."

"Okay. I've found to get the best from these, is you touch your elbow to the opposite knee." He nodded, and she began to count off.

"How you feeling?" she panted, when they'd hit their goal.

"Good."

"Ready to get some punches in?"

He grinned at her. "Definitely."

They went back to the mat she had been stretching on, and along the wall was some sparring equipment. Couple forearm pads, two sets of boxing gloves.

"No head shots. I know, I know, you're too pretty," she said, smirking.

"You think I'm pretty?" It cought him completely by surprise. She saw it on his face. If she wanted to be cruel, she could sucker punch him at that moment, but she was better than that. Once his brain processed that remark, that crooked, cocky smirk came back.

"You think I'm pretty." It was then, right when she wanted to smack that grin off of his face, she tood advantage, and punched him hard in his stomach. He doubled over instantly, but more from surprise, she thought.

"In a feminine sort of way," she said, smiling, when he looked up at her.

"Of course," he stood straight, catching his breath. "I get that a lot, actually," he made a jab for her shoulder, but she tilted it back so the blow didn't land.

She smiled, taunting. "But I was thinking more in the context that you make your living from your face, not that _I_ think you're pretty." She jabbed for his left arm, but he moved.

"So, you don't think I'm pretty, then," he said, and made another jab, and landed on her right side.

"Meh," she lied, shrugging a shoulder, then intentionally threw a punch at his head that missed.

"Hey! That hurt. And I'm not talking about the punch you purposely made miss my face," he told her.

"Not every girl will fall at your feet," she informed him, and landed another jab on his chest.

"Like you? Why not?"

She spun around, and kicked her foot out to land two inches from his stomach. "Arrogant son of a bitch," she told him, flat out.

He looked down at her foot, then back at her, grinning. "Looks like it's time for a new game." She put her foot down. "Will you show me how to flip someone over to the ground like you did that girl?" He smiled innocently.

Was he just trying to get his arms around her? Because that's part of the move. She narrowed her eyes. New game, huh? Okay, she'd just have to kick his ass at this, too.

"I can do that, but if you so much as turn it into anything else then what it's meant for, I swear I'll make your life miserable." She narrowed her eyes in warning.

"No problem. So what's it called, the flip?"

"It comes from Judo, actually," she told him.

"Can you flip me first then teach me how?"

"Sure. Now come at me. I'll be gentle," she told him. He nodded, then took a step towards her. She did exactly the same move as she had with the girl earlier, but this time she actually had to work for it. She didn't have the lightness and momentum as with the girl, but she managed to flip him over her shoulder, landing him softly on his back on the mat.

"Wow, that was- enlightening," he said with a small smile, looking up at her. He stood up and dusted off his knee length nylon shorts. "Could we do that one more time, but all out?"

"Sure," she smiled, then readied herself as he stepped towards her. She grabbed him, spun around and flipped him, landing with a heavy thud on the mat.

He nodded and smiled with approval. He had to admit, that _was_ hot. But, he couldn't let that interfere now. As his friends would say, they'd have to save it in their "spank bank", and pull it out later while in the shower or something. But now, he'd finally get close. He stood up. "How do we start?"

"We'll start without any of the charging." She stood in front of him, within arms length. "Hold my arms between my shoulders and elbows, like this." She did the same, grasping his biceps. Wow. They were bigger than she'd thought. Why did his hands feel so warm on her arms? She blinked, clearing her mind.

"Once you've got a good grip on their arms, you're going to want to cross your right foot behind your left." She waited for him to follow. "Then you'll want to switch. Cross your left foot behind your right, and turn so I'm against your back." She waited again. "Now take your right arm, straighten it out, and wrap it around my shoulders." She hesitated, seemingly feeling every inch of his arm lay across her. "Now when you have a good grip, bend forward, and flip me over your shoulder."

He did just as she said, pausing, taking note of how her small body pressed against his back. Maybe she'd think he was debating if she was too heavy or not, or how to be gentle. Either way, she felt better than she had any right to on his back. Before he let his mind go any farther, he flipped her over. She landed harder than he would have preferred, but there wasn't much he could do. Besides. She was tough.

"Good," she said, breathless. "Again?" He nodded. She coached him through a couple more times, then for the final time, she came at him running, as a fan would. He executed it perfectly. In two seconds she was on the mat. "Nice. We good?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He reached down and gave her a hand. She took it, and pulled herself up.

"Thanks."

"No worries." They grabbed a towel each on their way out the door and mopped themselvs on the way to the elevator. She made a mental note to down a couple Tylenol before she went to sleep. A new flipper was rough on her, and she would for sure be feeling it tomorrow. And after today, she had to be at her best. In the elevator, she dreaded hiding her belongings, and having to share a room and a bed with him. He'd better shower or she would _not_ share a bed with him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked. "You seem far away."

"It's nothing. Just making a checklist to make sure I repack everything for our transfer to the new room."

"I appreciate you doing that. Tomorrow we can look into it a little more, find a different hotel if we need to."

"Sure, I'll handle it." The elevator dinged on their floor. Stepping out, her eyes quickly swept the hall, then led the way to their room. It was still going to be at least another hour before she got to bed. She sighed internally, and started that checklist she was supposed to be thinking about, in a feeble attempt to not let her mind wander about spending the night in the same bed as him. In their room, she stuck her head in and looked around. "Ten minutes," she told him. He nodded, and went to his room to pack. In her room, she hid everything in half of the dresser, and half of the shelves, going around her room quickly, and gave one last loving look to her private bathroom and bed. Two nights, she sighed, trying to be optimistic. She waited out by the door, and he joined her not a minute later, bags in tow. She glanced at her watch. It was time to get ready. "So...who wants to shower first?" she asked.

"Ladies first," he said, and began unpacking his suitcase into the drawers she'd just cleaned out. She nodded, then collected her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. It was so weird, she thought, turning on the shower. She quickly shaved and soaped, trying to break the record of shortest shower time.

As he unpacked, he thought about her in the shower. The water sliding down her tight, naked body, glistening. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and made himself focus on his task. He was just finishing up when the bathroom door opened, and she emerged. Of course, he was hoping for a towel wrapped around her, not long baby pink cotton yoga pants and a white tank top. Not that she didn't look nice, with her wet hair wild from being towel dried. She raised an eyebrow, and he blinked, then shook his head. "Yeah, I'm going," he said, grabbing his clothes.

"Before you shower- do you prefer the left or right side of the bed?" She asked, keeping her distance.

"It doesn't matter to me," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulder. She nodded once, and made her way to the dresser. He stepped into the bathroom, and her scent hit him strong in the hot moist room. Well, it would be easy to get himself off, he thought, closing the door behind him.

When he made his way back to the room, the lights were off, and he could see her form on the far side of the bed. He set his clothes in a drawer, then sat on his side of the bed, checking to see if she really had made the pillow line. But to his surprise, there was none. He set his alarm after plugging his phone in, and layed down. He could still smell her, and it was amazing. He layed board straight, his hands under his head in efforts not to reach out to her. Would she respond in her sleep? Either way, it was a lot harder to be grown people than he thought it'd be.

As she pretended to sleep, she felt the bed sink with his weight, and could catch whifs of his soap as he moved, situating himself. After a minue he quieted. Honestly, she waited, expecting him to initiate something. A small part deep down hoped he would. Just not the common sense part. After a minute, she figured he wasn't going to try anything, and tried to clear her mind to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This chapter earns about 80% of the M rating, and it's not just language this time.

* * *

She woke to her alarm the next morning. She sat up, disoriented, and looked around, wondering why she was so close to the edge of the bed. Turning, she saw him, and it all came rushing back. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. His alarm went off. Why? She groaned inwardly. She instinctivly ran her hands over her hair, which she knew was a rat's nest. As she debated if she would be fast enough to reach her clothes and beat him to the bathroom or not, he sat up. She tried not to look at him.

"Morning Officer Hale," he said.

She could hear the smile in his voice, and was not amused. "Good morning," she replied as nice as she could, and reached for her phone and checked her mail.

"Ladies first," he said again. She nodded, and escaped to the bathroom, refusing to let her eyes wander. It is not crucial information to know he slept half naked. Probably for her sake, too. Leaning on the sink, she let her eyes adjust to the light before beginning.

She finished, and let him have his turn. She was strapping on her holster when he came out of the bathroom, and he stopped dead in his tracks. She followed his eyes to her weapon, so she covered it with her jacket. "Ready?" she asked. He nodded, so she walked with him down to the awaiting crowd. She surveyed the crowd, bigger than the day before. As the Mercedes slid to a stop at the curb and the door opened, it was then she let him through the doors of the hotel. She made sure her badge was in plain sight around her neck, hoping it would deter anyone else thinking about trying something. She closed the door behind him, then circled the back of the car and climbed into the driver's seat. Sighing in relief that the transfer had been smooth, she crossed her fingers for the rest of the day to go just as well.

And it was, until the ride back to the hotel.

"Let's go out tonight," he said, leaning forward in between the front seats.

"Okay, you get ready, I'll catch a cab behind you, you have fun and won't even know I'm there," she told him.

"Are you going to dress up?" he asked, a grin on his face.

"I'll do one better. I'll be the only one in jeans and a t-shirt," she told him with a smirk. His smile fell instantly.

"Officer Hale, I was actually thinking that you and I go out and-"

"A date is one hundred percent out of the question," she cut him off.

"Well, will you at least dress up so you don't stand out?"

She considered his point, and he did have one. Dammit, why did she always have to dress up? She let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. I'll put a dress on, but I'm not associating with you," she warned him.

"Fine," he said in the same tone she'd used. "I'll dance with girls, and pretend they're you," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. He slid back against the seat and was quiet. He had to think of something to get through her walls.

They pulled up outside the hotel at the back entrance. She surveyed the door, then circled to let him out of the car. As the back doors slid open, her eyes swept around, and noticed there was a small crowd by the check in desk. Dammit, she had to switch rooms. She looked around again, and spotted a sitting area that would be in her line of sight if she was at the desk. She led him over to the chairs, then turned to face him.

"Okay. There's a fairly large group of people at the check in desk, where we need to be if we're going to get our new room and be able to come back and crash with no hassle." She watched him nod. "So if you don't mind, would you have a seat here while I get the new room and can keep an eye out for you?"

"Sure," he nodded with a smile. He flopped down into the nearest chair, and grabbed a section of the newspaper off of a nearby coffee table and held it up, hiding behind it.

She took that as her cue and spun around on her heel and made her way to the desk. As she waited in line, she kept one eye on him, and the other on their surroundings. When it was her turn, she checked into the new room, and tucked the new keys into her pockets. She crossed back to him and fought the urge to put her fist through the paper. Instead, being the mature professional she was, she tipped the top edge back.

"Ready?" she asked him.

"Yep," he tossed the paper down as he jumped up and followed her closely through the lobby. "So where should we go tonight?" He asked quietly. He smiled when he noticed when she shivered.

"There's a club called Katra that you might like, since you mentioned dancing," she told him. Why did her body have to betray her so visibly when his breath tickled her neck? She wondered. At least she had a dress for that, a dress that she hoped would torture him. She stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for their old floor. They needed to get everything moved to their new room. Unfortunately they'd only have one bathroom- hopefully the mirror and sink would be seperate from the shower. The thought of getting ready around him had a dual reaction in her. Excitement, and dread.

They walked down the hall to their old door, and once they were inside, she swept the room, and when she called it all clear, they gathered their belongings and made their way to their new room a couple floors lower, all in silence.

"Officer Hale, would you like to get ready first? I just figured girls take a little longer-"

She shot him a look. She bit her lip to prevent the line that almost burst through her lips. Not everyone can be movie perfect every waking moment, she thought.

"Yes, thanks, I'll go first," she told him, checking the room first. It was just like a regular hotel room, no kitchen, no bedroom. Just a bed by a window with a small table and chairs across from a dresser with an old t.v., on the other side of the bathroom wall. She sighed and wheeled her suitcase next to the bed, and let him look around. She saw a couple different expressions cross his face as the door closed behind him. First his brows drew together, then one raised, then both, then his features smoothed as he looked at her.

"I've stayed in worse places," he said simply.

"Alright, then," she said slowly. "I'll just get my things," she told him. He nodded and brought his luggage to the opposite side of the room and set it on the bed and began to open it as she brought hers into the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she sighed, and looked at her reflection. She looked tired. She turned to turn the water on, and adjusted the temperature.

He dug through his clothes, pulling out a pair of jeans and a blue button down t-shirt, clean underwear, and his shower kit, and tried to imagine how he was going to put some moves on her, without her knowing. He was going to have to be the smoothest of the smooth. His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and the light in the bathroom hall in front of the sink and mirror flipped on. He scooped up his stuff, and took two steps towards her. His mind raced on what she would be wearing. Some sexy little dress he'd want to get under, or a towel he'd want to rip off as she leaned in over the sink towards the mirror, applying lipstick slowly to her pretty mouth. He stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He stepped forwards and slowly made his way behind her. He met her eyes in the mirror, then dragged down her body. When she snorted, his eyes shot back up to hers. He watched her eyes in the mirror slide down. He looked down. He'd dropped his stuff. Shit! He kicked it into the bathroom with the inside of his foot, keeping eye contact with her through the mirror. His eyes lowered slowly, following her shape. Perfect hourglass. His hands ached to touch her. The dress was amazing. It was like a long black scarf, really. If he cut the short seam on her left hip, it would fall to the floor. Good to know for future refrence. The end of the scarf started low on her left hip, and made it's way diagonally across her stomach to cover her breast, then haltered behind her neck, came down over the other breast, and wound around her hips, barely covering everything.

She watched his eyes roam slowly over her, highly amused. At least she was getting a reaction she was looking for. She saw his lips part slightly, and his eyelids become heavy. Now was her chance. She turned to face him slowly, resting against the sink's counter, her hands on either side. She waited for his eyes to return to hers. She'd never felt anything like what he was doing to her, making her all flushed and tingly. She had to admit, it was turning her on. Finally his eyes came up to hers. She bit her lip, and saw his eyes drop to her mouth. She slowly licked her lips, and noticed he'd taken a step closer, they were toe to toe. She tilted her head back slightly, tempting him. His eyes flicked to hers, and he angled his head, and began to move in slowly. She let him get so close to her neck, she could feel the hairs on her neck stand in anticipation when she cleared her throat. She felt him freeze.

He inhaled her scent audibly, then whispered in a scratchy voice, "I know you want it as much as I do." He pulled away from her, met her eyes and held them for a moment, then turned and closed the bathroom door behind him. He silently thanked God he was in the bathroom, and as soon as that hot water was scalding his skin, he would pretend it was her all around him until he met his release.

As soon as he was behind that door and heard the shower turn on, she spun back around to face the mirror and heave a sigh of relief. That was a lot harder than she thought it'd be, stepping on those brakes. She picked up her straightener and got to work.

He'd taken a long shower, and for that she was thankful. She was standing by her bag by the bed stepping into her shoes when she heard a sharp intake of breath. She spun around, startled. "Oh," she said, rolled her eyes and continued with putting her shoes on.

"Officer Hale, you look..." he trailed off, his eyes sweeping over her done up face and long, straight hair. "Well, I'm ready to go when you are. And I would be honored if I could enter the club with you on my arm," he said, his accent particularly heavy. "We don't have to stay together, I understand that. But to have everyone see you, and me, the lucky bastard that came with you, it would be an experience I wouldn't forget."

"Those are some pretty sweet words you're using there, Mr. Pattinson," she said quietly, picking up her black sequin clutch containing all her necessities. "I'm ready," she told him as she took a step towards him, but stopped when he didn't move. She wouldn't back away.

"What you _should _have is a three carat diamond hanging around your lovely neck," he said quietly.

"Your pretty words are going to get you in trouble," she informed him with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

He gave her the crooked grin and stepped aside, letting her lead. "I can give you that, and more, if you wish," he told her as she passed.

"Trouble," she warned him, and stepped into the hallway and walked quickly towards the elevator. She faintly heard the click of their door, and his soft steps behind her. Her brains were melting. She needed to get away from him. It was like, he had an aura that drew you in and messed with your head. And she did not need a messy head. She had to be alert, not associating with the clients. But their situation was so- so- confined, intimate even. I mean, who really, in any situation, if they were healthy, unattached, attracted to the other, even on some varying degree, could sleep in the same small bed, two nights in a row, and not feel anything after being together for forty eight hours? Suddenly she was excited to get out, maybe even have a shot or two. She knew her limit. Suddenly, she couldn't get out fast enough, desperate for the distance, so she quickened her steps, and led him to the car. Once they were in, she glanced at him in the mirror. Of course he had the smirk on his face.

"You're not running, are you Officer Hale?"

She could hear the taunt in his voice, and it boiled her blood. She had to check her emotions. Steadying her breath, she challenged, "From what, would you think?"

"Oh, I don't know, could be a number of things. I just noticed your- change of pace on the way out, is all,"

"Hmm. It was then I realized I was looking forward to coming out tonight, is all," she said casually.

"So do you plan on sitting at the bar all night?"

The image in her head, of her sitting with her back to the bar, nursing a Sprite and watching him get his grove on was hilarious. She laughed out loud.

"No," she said with a smile. "But I'll be around," was all she said as she made her way to the club. She parked Valet, and made the first move by slipping her arm around his and smiling up at him. "Let's rock," she said. The grin he gave her made her knees shake.

"Let's do it," he said.

They entered the bar, and she could feel so many pairs of eyes on them, it made her smile even more. A little bit into the crowd, she let him go and slipped away, getting lost. She wanted to make a circle of the crowd, trying to make mental notes of certain people. At the bar, she did stop to get a lemon drop, knocked it back, and continued her route. She spotted him, talking to a blonde, leaning in close so they could hear each other over the pounding bass. She kept him in her sight, but made her way to the middle of the floor, and started dancing, swaying to the beat. She could feel eyes still on her, so she turned away, to be facing him through a few rows of people. She looked away from him, but kept the corner of her eye on him. She saw him spot her, and keep his gaze on her. The next song came on, and she finally glanced at him, and their eyes met. She saw him move, the action drawing her eyes away from his and to his hands, which began roaming around the front of the blonde girl's body. She was enjoying it way too much, her head back against his shoulder, eyes closed, grinding her ass against his crotch. Her eyes went back to his, then she looked away. She knew that he was doing exactly as he said he would.

She continued to dance, and then felt a guy's arms circle her waist. She didn't shake him off, even though she wanted to. He wanted to play? Ha. She did exactly what the blonde in his arms did. Started grinding her ass in the guy's crotch. His hands wandered to hold her hips, then slide up her body. She glanced at him, hoping he was still watching. He was. Beginning to glare a little, actually. She smiled, and lifted her arms up to link her hands together behind the mystery guys neck. His hands roamed up to the bare skin on her ribs, so she moaned in the guys ear, encouraging him. She watched his eyes narrow through her lashes. She couldn't help but think that his plan was backfiring on him, and that made her smile. She decided to take it up a notch. She slid her hands down the guy's arms, and laced her fingers with his, and guided his hands up onto her breasts and squeeze. The guy got the hint instantly, and didn't need any more encouraging. She looked directly at him, and watched as one hand slid slowly down the girl's stomach, and the other held her against him across her shoulders. With their eyes locked, he lowered his head and ran his nose along the girl's shoulder and up her neck, then stuck his tongue out like he was going to lick her, but then at the last minute, he licked his lips, and nodded towards her. She returned his little show by giving the air in front of her a kiss, and then led the guy's hands down over her stomach to rest on the bare inside of her thighs. She brought her hands up to cover her breasts, then ran the tip of her tongue slowly across her bottom lip. Just then, one of her favorite club songs- 'Shots' by LMFAO, came on, so she began to actually began to move with this guy, their hands all over eachother. She glanced to the right quickly, a movement catching her attention. When she went to look at him again, all she could find was the blonde, standing alone looking confused, and slightly sad. She raised an eyebrow curiously, and scanned the crowd. He was gone. Shit.

"I need to get a drink," she told the guy she'd still had yet to see, and left him. She made her circle again, trying to find him. Bathroom maybe? She'd give him ten minutes to reappear again, before she started busting into the men's room. She slowly rounded the floor again, weaving through people, until she was cought solidly around the waist again, pulled up tight against a guy.

"I got you another shot, you want it? Or are you going to be a prude?" She recognized his voice immediately, his accent obvious.

"I'll take it, thank you," she said, taking the double shot from his free hand, and tossed it back.

"You're welcome. You know, you're a bit of a tease," he told her, his face against her left ear. "Why does he get to touch you like that and I don't?"

"I don't work for him," she answered, the tequila burning her throat.

"Is that it? The only reason? Because you're not going to work for me for forever," he pointed out, and held her tighter, and swayed to the song.

"No," she laughed, feeling slightly light headed. Nobody can hurt him when she's in his arms, right? She asked herself. Nodding in agreement, she continued. "If you want the truth," she said, and felt him nod against her. "I'll tell you like I did my boss. You're an arrogant son of a bitch with a constant smirk I'd like to slap off." Good 'ol drink, liquid courage.

"I have to be," he told her. "I want you," he said, changing the subject. "Pretend I'm that other guy and let me touch you."

"You are touching me," she pointed out.

"You know what I mean," he practically growled in her ear, and squeezed her roughly.

"Fine, but just dancing," she told him. She felt him smile, and his grip loosened.

"I've wanted to touch you like this since I first saw you," he admitted, running his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her torso.

The deadly combination of the alcohol, the song, and his big, warm hands was too much for her. She was only human, and could only stand so much stimulation. She began to move with him. She lifted her hands, and fisted her hands in his hair as his hands roamed, grabbed and squeezed possessively. Her breasts, her hips, stomach, nothing was left untouched above the top hem of her dress.

He stepped it up and took advantage of the situation. He finally had his hands on her glorious body, she wasn't fighting him, and she was actually moving with him, which took him by surprise. He began laying kisses along her shoulder, and up her neck, and down the other side. He nipped her collar bone gently, and was rewarded with a groan from her. He nipped a little harder, then ran his tongue over his teeth marks. She tasted amazing. He couldn't get enough of her. His mouth worked every inch of bare skin on her shoulders and neck. She was still moving against him, hands fisting and unfisting in his hair. When she released him, he spun her around and kissed her fiercely, taking a big risk, hoping she didn't slap him when he was done.

Her head was spinning and floating, her stomach quivering, and her thighs wet. And then he went and pulled the stunt of kissing her on the mouth. But God he was a great kisser. His lips were so soft, and she loved how he used his teeth, and his tongue in her mouth. She yielded to him, pressing her body against him. She felt his hand slide down over her hip, and linger at the lower hem of her dress. How bad she wanted him to touch her, she didn't know until now, and she was desperate. She pushed her hips against him, asking. She felt his hand slide up, and find her hot center. Instantly he drew away from her.

"We need to leave, or I'm going to take you right here."

Her head reeled with his words, and all she could do was nod. How hot would that be? she thought. She moaned into his mouth. He pulled her back and looked at her for a moment. With one hand he pulled her through the sea of people, and the other had his phone to his ear, looking for a cab number. By the time they made it to the door, one was waiting. He opened the door for her and slid in after. He gave the cabbie the hotel address, then kissed her again, his hand sliding back up under her skirt, and pushed her panties aside. He traced her with a finger, found her clit, and rubbed gently. When she bucked against his hand, he rubbed faster, and slid his other hand under her skirt, and slid two fingers into her. She moaned again, pliant putty in his hands. This was all he needed, this was his chance, to prove himself. He felt her tighten around his fingers, so he picked up his speed, and not five seconds later she came around him.

"That's it baby, come for me," he whispered in her hear. The cab pulled up to the hotel. "Let's get upstairs so I can spoil you some more," he said with a smile. She nodded weakly, and followed him out of the cab. He was the one leading her, by the hand this time, through all the people. She knew she should pay attention, she knew she needed to do her job, but her mind and body were so focused on getting into that room...

He ambushed her in the elevator, pushing her into a corner and kissing her silly. He broke away, leaving them both panting when the doors dinged open. He pulled her along, then stopped by their door, and pushed her up against the wall and kissed her again. He let go of her to quickly open the door, then pulled her inside, both of them laughing at the risk of getting caught, when he stopped dead in his tracks so fast she bumped into him and fell silent. There on their new bed was a pile of sheets, with a bottle on top.

He never let go of her hand, but he knew that bottle, and he would bet his next paycheck that it was empty. When it was stolen yesterday, it had been almost full of his cologne. And the sheet was the flat sheet only, not the fitted sheet.

"Shit!" She screeched. With her free hand, she ran it through her hair. "Okay. My place. We have to. I don't see another choice. Let's get our stuff, and get out of here. I'll call Grainger on our way out. Ohhh," she groaned as the realization hit their car was still at the club. "Dammit! Okay." She pulled out her cell and dialed the cab service she had on her speed dial. She couldn't let any of the force know she'd been two seconds away from sleeping with the client. Fucking alcohol, fucking smooth client. Fucking stalker! "Hello, I need a cab back to Katra," she explained the need and address and the urgency of the matter. Fortunately the one who had been dispached to pick them up from the club wasn't too far away, and he'd just turn around.

"Let's get our stuff, don't touch anything else." He nodded as they flew around gathering their stuff. "Anything else missing?" she asked him loudly.

"Not that I know of," he answered from the bathroom. They met at the entrance to the hall and left the room to the elevator.

She dialed her boss. "Grainger. Our room's been broken into again. It's the same person, half of the sheets were returned, along with the empty bottle of the cologne like a fucking cherry. Seven oh nine. We didn't touch anything, but we got our stuff and left. We're checking out right now. Uh-hu. My place. I know, but- it has to be," she said. "Yeah. Get that team in again. Has anyone checked who was on shift these two times? And what about the tapes with the two girls that came to our original room?" She was quiet as she listened to the updates, but stole a glance at him. He was pale as a sheet, and suddenly looked ten years older. "Yeah. Okay. Got it." She snapped the phone shut. They made their way outside to the waiting cab.

"I'm really sorry sir, but we need my car," she told the cabbie, reciting the adress of the club for him one more time. It was silent for a moment, and then she turned to him. "You okay?"

He looked down at his hands folded in his lap and nodded. "It's just frustrating sometimes. Are you sure about me at your place?" He looked up at her, eyes full of sadness.

"Yes," she said immediately. "We'll get this ass hole, don't worry. Even if it takes me until after you leave, I'll find out who it was, track them down, and charge them for everything I possibly can," she told him honestly.

They rode in silence back to the club, then climbed into their car with their luggage one hundred percent sober, the recent events bringing down their buzzes with a crash. She took them to her place, not too far away.

Inside, she locked the door behind them.

She stopped by her couch, and turned to him, by the door.

"So I've been thinking about it quite a bit, and I've decided I'll sleep on the couch and you have my bed," she told him, looking him square in the eye, wanting him to know she was serious.

He blinked in surprise. "But-"

"Mostly because if my mom ever found out I didn't treat you like any other guest, she'd rip me a new one. And don't even think about trying to get me in that bed. Earlier this evening, that was a moment of weakness. It' won't happen again," she informed him. He nodded. "Good. This way," she said, turning and leading him towards the hall. She heard him follow her with his bag, and showed him to her room.

He'd been in her place once before, but had never seen her room. He'd never seen anything like it in all his time in hotels. Everything was white, with accents of silver. The walls were white, the plush shag carpet was white, and her bedding was white, with silver trim, piled high with matching pillows. Her headboard against the wall to his left was silver, the disco ball looking light above her bed was silver, her dresser against the opposite wall was silver,the make up table and chair were silver next to the dresser was silver, and her window next to her headboard was covered in white wooden blinds behind silver sheer material draped across it. The entire wall to his right, across from her bed, was a mirror. His brows drew together. There were two doors on the wall next to him, besides the one he was in, and no t.v. He slowly turned to her, his mind racing with the mirror and t.v.

"No t.v.?"

"I don't believe in t.v.'s in the bedroom," she told him simply.

"Why? Falling asleep with the t.v. is great," he said.

"Then you can sleep on the couch, and I won't feel bad because I offered. I believe what happens in the bedroom does not need the distraction of a t.v."

"What happens in the bedroom...?"

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to connect the dots.

"Regardless, they're not clients," she reminded him. "The door right next to you is to the bathroom. There's also a door to the same bathroom out here in the hall. I suggest you keep them both locked when you're using it." He nodded. "The other door is my closet. If you're going to snoop, I don't want to know about it," she stated. "I'll be on the couch," she said, turning and heading in the direction of the item she'd mentioned.

"But the t.v.-"

"You seriously want the couch?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

"No, I just wanted you to turn around again," he said with a wicked grin. She rolled her eyes and continued to the living room. She went to the linen closet and pulled out another pillow and a couple of blankets. At least she wouldn't have to worry about sharing a bed with him tonight. She made her bed on the couch, then dug through her suitcase for her pajamas. The light in the bathroom was off, so she snuck in, flipped the light on, locked the doors, and began her nightly routine. When she was done, she flipped off all the lights, then went quietly back to the couch, made herself comfortable, and turned on the t.v. to catch up on her missed episodes of 'Baggage' on her DVR, snuggling down into her blankets.

"Officer Hale?" She winced, knowing he was standing right behind her.

"Yeah," she said.

"About the t.v. Can I sit with you? I don't care what you're watching."

"Ah, sure," she said slowly, and sat up to gather her blankets closer to her. She watched him round the end of the couch and sit at the opposite end, noting his loose blue cotton pants and white t-shirt. At least he was covered. "I'm sorry to intrude, it's just that in my travels, the t.v. is the only constant, and it helps me relax," he admitted.

She studied his profile for a minute, then turned her attention back to the t.v., thinking over what he'd said. She could understand that, and felt slightly sympathetic. She was suddenly compelled to play proper hostess.

"Did you want anything? Can I get you something, or you could help yourself to anything," she asked. "Ingraned manners," she said, trying to dismiss the fretting feeling she was experiencing.

"Do you happen to have a bottle of water?" he asked, looking over at her in the glow of the t.v.

"In the fridge," she said, beginning to throw the blankets back.

"No, don't get up, I'll get it," he told her with a smile. "I appreciate it though."

"No problem," she said, then fast forwarded through the intro while he went to her fridge. She suddenly felt bad for him. Such a nomadic lifestyle. She wondered how often he saw his family. Must not be much, considering he's from England, here, filming. She wondered what it would be like, moving from place to place with a different group of people for an average of three months. It made her sad to think how little she'd see her family. Was that worth the money? The stalkers?

"What are you thinking about, if you don't mind me asking?"

She blinked, and realized he was sitting on the couch again, watching her.

"You stopped forwarding through the commercials," he pointed out with a half smile.

"Oh. Sorry. I ah," she paused, trying to think of something to tell him. Should she be honest? "I was just thinking about what you said, about the t.v.," she admitted, looking at the t.v. but not watching.

"What about it?" he pressed.

She laughed quietly.

"You don't have to be a distant hard ass _all _the time," he told her with a joking smile. He saw her eyes shoot up to his. "You can ask me anything, and I won't tarnish your reputation by telling anyone you actually have feelings. Ask. I'd like you to," he said gently.

She sighed, then opened her mouth to speak, but didn't. He waited. "I was just thinking about how difficult it would be for me, to be in your situation, away from your family, in another country thousands of miles away," she finally said, quietly. "I don't know if I could do it."

"Well, honestly, my siblings are artists in their own ways also, so we were always off doing our own thing, persuing our art. We talk often though," he told her.

"So for you, do you miss them alot?"

"In some ways, but I'm sure not like you and yours. I chose my path. I could have stayed close, but if I'd done that, I wouldn't be happy with where I was going. I would have ended up at some lame job I hated, where as now, I get to do what I love, and make a decent living from it, and meet interesting people." He waited for her to meet his eyes. "Beautiful, mysterious women," he said with a smile.

"One more," she inturrupted. He nodded.

"Are you like this to every female? An arrogant son of a bitch?" She smiled, teasing.

"Only with ones I like," he told her with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, then moved them to the t.v. to rewind all she'd missed. They laughed and made smartass comments throughout, and she could tell he was getting tired when he progrssively grown quieter. Half way through the second show, she glanced over at him and saw he was asleep. She definitely didn't want to interrupt him, so she layed one of her blankets over him, sat back down, and turned off the t.v. and fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter is full Mature warning, just so you know. (After the last chapter, it had to happen soon, right?)

I wanted to take a moment to thank my reviewers, I appreciate the time you took to drop me a note, they make my day.

I also wanted to say that I've been working on finishing this story feverishly, and it's almost done being written now. I expect it to have 8, maybe 9 chapters total, the end is in sight. I'm sure you've noticed they're fairly long, so there's still a ways to go. Which is weird to me, as I've been sitting on this story for about a year and a half now, and never made it past the middle of chapter three. I love inspiration, it works in crazy ways.

As a heads up, there will be a two-fer on 11/15. One, because chapter five is really a half chapter in length, and I'll be on vacation for Thanksgiving the following week, so chapter six will be early. The Thursday posting schedule will resume the week after, 11/29 with chapter 7.

Enough rambling. I'm done. Swear.

* * *

She was awoken by her alarm the next morning, and sat up instantly, taking in their position. Fortunately it was harmless. He sat slumped on the couch, pretty much the same position he'd fallen asleep in, as if he'd fallen asleep sitting up, and she was curled up in a ball. She threw the blankets off and put her feet down, stretching slowly. She was way too stiff. Today was going to be rough. She heard his alarm sound from her room, and went to retrieve his phone. She took it off it's charger, and carried it to him, and layed it on the arm of the couch next to his head. After a minute, he woke up and silenced his alarm just as she was disappearing into the bathroom. As she showered and dressed for the day in dark blue jeans, pink Chucks and a pink t-shirt, she thought about last night. They had been so close to sleeping with eachother, and then the stalker turned up again, then the ending on the couch. They'd had a "moment", fortunately it wasn't a physical one. Unfortunately, emotional "moments" were worse than physical, in her book. But on the other hand, even after talking to him, and asking him the couple of questions, she still felt bad he was here alone, and she was being a bitch on purpose. Her mom would'ev lectured her about manners. She knew him coming to her house was a game-changer. It was hard to be a bitch when her hospitality and manners had to trump her moods. And she knew they couldn't go to another hotel, they would just find them there too. And if she had to be in a one bed place, she'd rather be home, where hopefully tonight she'd have the couch to herself. Not in a position where she had to share a small bed.

She finished with brushing her teeth, exited the bathroom, and went to strap on her holster. She felt so much more in control when she had her gun on her. While he got ready, she put a couple bagels into the toaster and started some coffe. While those were going, she sliced up some strawberries and apples, then added grapes to the plate she set in the middle of her small two person table. When he came out, she was setting the butter and cream cheese on the table.

"Morning," she said, noticing he'd stopped to watch her curiously. "I had some time, so this was quick." She motioned to the table. When he didn't move, she continued. "I hope you like strawberries, grapes or apples, with coffee and bagels." Finally, a smile bloomed on his face, and she was relieved.

He made his way into the kitchen and sat while she gathered the coffee mugs, sugar and cream, watching her. He had to admit he was skeptical, why she was doing this. He didn't know this side of her. Was it because she was comfortable in her own home, to prepare breakfast? Or did something from last night's conversation have a certain affect on her? Maybe she just got better sleep, or she was growing more comfortable with him. Whatever it was, he liked it, and was thankful for it. Not to mention the view he had of her backside as she spun around her kitchen like a well trained ballerina, gathering way more supplies for the table than necessary. When she finally sat across from him, he gave her a smile.

"This looks amazing, Officer Hale. Thank you." He picked up his coffee.

"So did you sleep well? You looked kind of uncomfortable," she said casually.

"Better, definitely. I am sorry for falling asleep on your couch," he said.

"Well, if you'd like, you can have the couch, if you'd prefer." She picked up her bagel and took a small bite.

"If you don't mind," he said. "The t.v."

She nodded, understanding. "No problem."

They finished in silence, then made their way to the set.

Everything was going good, she was moving around his trailer slowly, watching him and the crowd as usual, when she noticed a small disturbance over by the barracade behind his trailer. She made her way over, and when the officer on duty trying to handle the issue spotted her, he flagged her over quickly. With a final check of her client, and was reasured that he was in the middle of shooting a scene, she jogged over to the officer.

"Officer Hale," he greeted.

She nodded. "What's going on?" she asked.

"This delivery girl insists on getting through the barricade to deliver this to Mr. Pattinson's trailer." He gestured to the flower bouquet and balloons the delivery girl was holding.

She narrowed her eyes, recognizing the blonde girl's face. She glanced over her shoulder at him, still filming, then to the trailer. She saw another girl climbing the steps to his trailer.

"Hold it. Don't let the delivery girl go, I'll be right back," she told the officer, then ran full out to his trailer.

Watching the girl lift her hand to place it on the door knob, she recognized the brunette. They were the pair of girls who'd come knocking on their hotel door that night. Those two little sneaky bitches. She coiled her legs, prepairing to jump as the girl turned the knob. She launched herself, grabbing on to the railing of the steps and swung over the top, kicking the door shut, then landing in front of the girl, obviously surprising her. She grabbed the girl and twirled her around, so the girl's back was towards her, and pulled out a set of plastic zip-tie handcuffs from the inside pocket of her coat she always carried, and secured the girls' wrists.

"You have no authorizaton to be here," she told the girl as she tried to catch her breath. "Have a seat." She pushed the girl down so she was sitting on the steps.

As the girl began to swear at her, Esme pulled out a walkie talkie and turned towards where she'd ran from. She noticed that the other officer was struggling with the other girl, and a couple other officers hurrying to assist him.

"Make sure you cuff her, we need her prints," she said into the radio. When she was sure that situation was under control, she pulled out her cell phone and called her boss.

"Grainger, you need to get your ass over here, we've got two suspects that need to be detained," she said quickly. "Over behind Mr. Pattinson's trailer. Yeah." She hung up, tucked the phone into a pocket and hauled the girl up by her elbow, bringing her face to face.

"You recognize me?" she asked the girl. She only blinked. "Good. Stop fucking with us. You're not going to get past me," she said angrilly, then spun her around and marched her down the stairs. At the bottom, she glanced over at him, and saw he was watching with an anxious expression. She gave him a thumbs up, and continued pushing the girl along to meet her boss by the other. As she got closer to the group of officers and the other girl, she told them, "As bad as I want to persue this personally, I'm on high alert. Keep me updated?"

"Sure," Grainger guaranteed. "Good work getting the other," he nodded towards the girl in front of Esme.

"Thanks. So I saw the initial commotion over here with her," she pointed to the brunette, "and came to see what was going on. When I got closer I recognized her as one of the two that knocked on our hotel door the night before last. When she was alone, I had a feeling the other was around somewhere, so I checked back at Mr. Pattinson's trailer, and saw her climbing the stairs to his door, trying to enter. I ran across and caught her, and now, well... I think if you check the tapes from the hotel you'll see they're the same girls, and you might match their prints, or they know the hotel clerk that told them, and also gave access to the room to the person who stole Mr. Pattinson's belongings," she said.

"We'll bring them down to the station and hold them for 48 hours while we look into everything," Grainger told her.

She nodded, then turned on her heel to go stand by the bottom of the stairs of his trailer. Hopefully there was no more excitement like that, she thought. Although, it was kind of fun, with the adrenaline rush and all. She smiled to herself, pleased she was able to be the one to put them in for forty eight hours and make that time hell for them, after the attitude they'd given her the other night.

A couple hours later, he came walking towards her quickly.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously. "Tell me in my trailor? I have one more scene to shoot," he told her. When she nodded, he led her up the stairs and inside. He sat in his chair as the makeup artist began to work, and he motioned for her to sit on the stool opposite him. He looked at her expectantly while the artist redid his hair.

"How much did you see?" she asked.

"I saw you running towards the trailer, jump up, and catch the girl," he told her.

She nodded, and watched the artist work as she spoke, recounting the latest events to him.

"So you think this is all connected to them?" he asked once she'd finished.

"I hope so, I'd hate to think there were more crazy people."

"Crazy people as in obsessed with me, or crazy people who are like those two girls, the stealer, and the girl who tackled me first?"

She laughed. "Well, definitely crazy as in the last three, different in the first one. Everyone's obsessed about something," she told him. She watched the artist touch up his makeup as she leaned back against the counter across from him. "Some just choose to go about it the crazy way," she added, getting a smile from him. Whew, that was a close one. It would have been so easy to be so rude to him right there, she thought to herself.

"Alright," the artist said. "You're ready."

"Thank you," he said, and stood. Esme stood too, and followed him out and down the steps. He turned to her when she was on the final step, putting them at the same height.

"I appreciate you," he said quietly with a soft smile, looking into her eyes. He wished they were alone so he could kiss her. It was then he realized he owed her for several occasions, and an idea dawned on him. He would have to wait to be away from her to act on it though.

"You're welcome," she said in the same tone, searching his eyes. After a moment, when she was sure his next move would to be to move in for a kiss, but didn't, he turned and walked back to the set. She decended the last stair, and made another circle around his trailer, then slowly widened it again, always keeping an eye on the trailer and him, letting her mind wander. Why was it, in the last twenty four hours, he'd managed to start dinging dents in her wall? Chipping away, getting closer and closer to the tenderness that would seep through?

Before she knew it, she saw the crew packing up, and she knew it was time to be done for the day. She waited for him by his trailer. They walked next to eachother quietly on their way to the car.

"Did you want to do anything tonight?" she asked, hoping he'd say no. She was exhausted after today's activities.

"I was kind of hoping to stay in today, maybe order in and watch a movie?"

Her tired body screamed in thanks. Sitting for five minutes in the car was bringing back the soreness twofold from her sleeping position last night, and after the stunts and adrenaline this afternoon.

"Okay," she said simply, silently thanking him. She pulled into her underground garage and parked, then led him up. She hoped she could get into the shower first, then some comfortable clothes, and park on the couch and not move until she dragged her tired ass to bed. At least she'd get to sleep in her bed tonight. She groaned quietly at the thought, then widened her eyes then squeezed them shut, praying he hadn't heard. If he had, he didn't say anything. She unlocked the door and let him in, then locked it behind him. As if he'd heard her prayer, he offered to let her shower first.

"Thanks. After touching those girls, ugh," she said with a shudder. She quickly ran into her room to her dresser, grabbed clean underware and clothes, and dashed into the bathroom. Locking the doors, she turned on the shower.

He heard the doors close and the shower turn on, so he went to the kitchen to sit at the table and look through his phone to find places that delivered. Pizza sounded amazing, so he found a place and dialed, then stood up quickly to find a magazine or envelope, something that had her address. After he paid, he fished around for plates, napkins, and cups, and set them down of the coffee table in front of the t.v., not wanting her to have to do anything. He went to the bathroom door and put his ear against it, and figured it would be safe to make his second call. With that taking only five minutes, he heard the water shut off. He browsed around, looking at the pictures, killing time, hoping his calls would come through before she got out of the shower. About ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and he dashed to it, looked out the peep hole, saw it was the pizza guy, and his extra surprise. Pleased, he grabbed a baseball cap hung by the door, tugged it on, unlocked and opened the door with a grin on his face. Taking his items, he closed the door with his foot and went to set them on the coffee table, ran back to the door and locked it, then went back to the table and arranged his items. He set each place setting on opposite ends of the table, with the food in between them, on the couch, and his surprise. He poured the Sprite into the champagne glasses, and liked the way it bubbled. They could pretend. He turned off the lights in the kitchen, so only the glow of the t.v. was on, then went into the bedroom to gather his shower kit and clean clothes. The bathroom door opened, then closed. He looked up when the bathroom door in the bedroom opened, and she stuck her head out, hair all wet and sleek around her face and over one shoulder.

"Hey," he said, picking up his clothes.

"Hey. Um, I have a favor to ask," she said hesitantly, her hand toying with the wet end of her hair.

"Sure," he said.

"In my haste to get into the shower, I accidentally grabbed my sleep shorts instead of my pants. Could you go into my second drawer and find me a pair of pants?"

He laughed quietly. "Ah, okay," he said, and went to her dresser and opened the second drawer, then paused, and turned back to her. "You have sleep shorts?"

"Yeah."

"Why aren't you happy with those?"

Her brows drew together. "Shorts being the key word," she told him.

He smiled and nodded. "So you can wear an incredibly short skirt, which is my guess shorter than your sleep shorts, out in public, but in your own home-"

"Fine," she cut him off, then opened the door. "Your turn," she told him.

His eyes went to her sleep shorts. He was wrong. The shorts _were_shorter than her skirt. They were like those boy short panties, but with pockets, a drawstring at the waist, and black lace trim around the edges, and red. He swept his eyes up to hers, making sure to notice she was wearing a matching red spaghetti strap tank top. Against her tanned skin and dark hair, she looked like a minx. He tore his unwilling eyes away from her, and scooped up his items. She stepped out of the door, letting him pass.

She'd seen the gleam appear in his eye, and her confidence got a boost. Maybe she wouldn't change when he was in the shower after all, just to torture him. It was a good thing she'd shaved. It was his idea after all for her to not change, so maybe she'd take his advice. She opened and closed the drawer multiple times, whenever she decided for or against the idea of changing. And honestly, the thought of changing didn't sound so appealing. Well, she'd just cover up with a blanket, she thought, and closed the drawer a final time with a bang. She turned to leave the room, just as the bathroom door opened, and she jumped back in surprise.

"I think that's the fastest shower in history," she said. She watched his eyes sweep over her, then a smile bloom on his face as his eyes met hers.

"I'm glad you decided not to change," he told her. "Let's go eat, it's getting cold." He dumped his day clothes and shower kit on his suitcase and saw her eyebrows shoot up. "Here," he said, and led her to the living room, and turned on a lamp. She stopped two steps ahead of him, so he grinned at her back, and enjoyed the way her ass peeked out of her shorts. It would be a great day when he could slap it. He brought his eyes back up as she spun around to face him.

"You- you-" she turned back around slowly and took it in. The coffee table was set with plates and napkins, two boxes, and complete with bubbly Sprite in champagne flutes. And then the flowers. The boquet was huge and colorful, inside a square silver vase, a white bow wrapped around the middle. She walked closer to the flowers and sat down on the couch to look. The aroma of pizza was only slightly distracting as her stomach growled. Ignoring it, she leaned in and inhaled the different flowers. Red roses, yellow tulips, white daisies, purple lillies, blue carnations, green poms, and orange sunflowers. She continued to smell each type of flower as he sat down on the edge of the couch.

"I hope you're not allergic," he said with a smile.

"Not at all," she inhaled a final time, closing her eyes and letting the scent fill her nose before she turned to him. "Why?" she asked softly.

He opened the pizza box and set a piece on her plate. "Because today I realized how many times you've saved my ass. And you've been so accomodating, bringing me into your home, but mostly because you've saved my ass." He smiled at her. "You brought me here even though you don't like me much, but you take your job seriously, and I can appreciate that. But mostly because you've saved my ass," he grinned when she gave a small smile. "So thank you."

"I, I don't know what to say," she admitted.

"It's okay, we can eat. Just let me know if there's anything you'd like to watch," he said, as he began scrolling through the cable channel guide.

She picked up the pepperoni pizza and began to eat, savoring the flavor. She didn't think there was any pizza better than this, or maybe she was just ravenous. She stared at the flowers, thinking of what to say. The first was that no guy had ever been so sweet. The second was that he thought she didn't like him. Well, that was partly true. She mostly didn't like the way he was so arrogant, and didn't like the situation. If she'd met him in another time and place, there was a possibilty, like in the club, she would have gone home and slept with him. She waited for the next commercial, and decided to clear the air.

"It's not that I don't like you," she began, getting his attention. He muted the commercial. "I mean, you _are_arrogant. Well, you started out arrogant, and the last twenty four hours, it hasn't been so much. Almost the opposite. And with that aside, I don't particularly like the situation. It's not you, it's my boss, and it's me, and I'm sorry, but, it's just really complicated." Really complicated as in she did it so she wouldn't get close to him is more like it, she thought to herself. But it's been really hard this last day. She took a big bite to prevent any word vomit.

"So you do like me?" he said with a small crooked smile.

"Kind of," was all she dared to say.

He nodded his head. "I can deal with that," he said.

"Thank you, for everything. The flowers are gorgeous, and the food is fabulous." Becoming comfortable, she stretched out her legs and took another bite of pizza.

"Can I ask why you dislike yourself in this situation?" he asked, picking up a chicken wing from the second box.

She laughed. "Of course you would ask the difficult question first," she said quietly. "It started out that, I would get to pick and choose my cases. My boss forced me onto this case, with no time to prepare." she rolled her eyes as she reached for her glass and held it as he watched her. "So I was angry with him, myself. And of course when I saw you, I acted like I did to keep you out. It's going to be a long week, and I know we were going to be in close situations, but I didn't want to get close to you. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," he said. "Then I apologize for being so arrogant."

Her eyes shot to his.

"I've never had a girl reject me so quickly as you did. Everything I want from a female is given willingly. To work for it, well, it's been kind of fun. At least you kind of like me," he said with a smile. "I just wanted to thank you for everything so far." He paused, and gave his famous smile. "I still think you're incredibly sexy," he said.

She narrowed her eyes and swiped at him with a pillow, but inwardly she grinned, and turned her attention to the now unmuted t.v. as he laughed.

"You know, there's still another part to this evening, if you'd like. It's totally your decision," he said quietly. She raised an eyebrow. "I know you spend all day on your feet, so I was thinking you might like a foot rub." She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued. "If you'd like," he finished.

She closed her mouth and eyed him skeptically, debating.

"How about the length of a set of commercials. You don't like it, you can move your feet." He pushed his plate away and closed the pizza and wings boxes.

Her feet did ache. Actually her legs did too, and her back, shoulders and neck. She slowly lifted her feet and placed them gently in his lap, laying across the couch, watching him.

He took a hold of her feet with a smile, placed them more securely in his lap, then began to rub her right foot.

"You don't happen to have any lotion around here, do you?"

She reached into a drawer of the coffee table and produced a bottle of lotion and passed it to him. He read it and smiled, then flipped the lid open and squeezed a decent amount onto his hands.

"Now you're gonna smell girly," she teased.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight. Besides. It smells like you, and I like it."

Her eyes widened, then she turned her attention to the t.v., about to move her feet, but then the warm lotion came, and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head it felt so good. She tried to keep focused on the t.v., and not whimpering and melting like butter in sheer pleasure. About thirty minutes into it- two commercial breaks had come and gone, both her feet were loose and soft, and his hands had became brave. They ever so slowly inched their way up. Her ankles, lower calves. But it felt so good, and he was so willing, she just couldn't say no, and her muscles refused to listen to her brain ordering them to move anyway.

"Officer Hale, your calves are so tense," he said softly, rubbing them slightly. He looked up at her through his lashes. She hadn't looked at him the entire time he'd been rubbing her feet. "Tell me what you're thinking," he asked quietly.

"Ha. Your hands are like the alcohol last night." He grinned, knowing how far things had gotten, until the stalker had rudely inturrupted, and how far they would have gotten if they hadn't had to flee the hotel. Well, maybe here he could complete the job. He grew hard just thinking about their make out session last night, and the possibility of tonight. So far, she'd been like putty in his hands, literally. He worked his way from the middle of her calves down, massaging her smooth legs with the lotion, then back up, a little bit higher. Repeating, a little higher. At her knees, she was limp, totally relaxed, head resting on the arm of the couch, stairing at the t.v. He didn't know it was possible for her to be this still. If she didn't blink every once in a while, he'd think she was asleep. He kept on though, biding his time and testing his limits, higher and higher on her legs. She would move if she didn't want it, that was the agreement. He was mid thigh when she finally made a peep.

"You're getting awfully close there," she said, but it was lazy, just a observation more than a warning.

"Well, I was basing it on if you didn't like it, you'd move," he said silkenly, smiling.

She turned her head to look at him, her lids heavy and lips parted slightly. He so badly in that moment wanted to push her shorts to the side, which had been teasing him all night, and slide into her so quick she wouldn't know what hit her until the orgasm did.

"Mm. Was that the agreement?" she smiled.

God, she didn't even know what she was doing to him! He could only smile in return, not trusting his voice.

"I'd say you're trying to seduce me, very sly like," she said. "The flowers, dinner ready, sensual massage..." she trailed off.

"So when you were saying you didn't want to get close to me, this was the kind of close you were talking about?" he asked.

"On a level," she sighed. "But don't remind me about my walls now, your hands are magical, and my body is sore."

"Well, I'm sure I could help you with that," he said softly.

"I'm sure you could too. But the question is, where does that leave us tomorrow morning?"

"You know I'm attracted to you, Officer Hale, I have been this entire time. You don't have a clue how much I've wanted you since I first saw you, and it's only been getting stronger as each day passes."

"Well, maybe if you get it once, you won't want it again, it'll be out of your system."

"We can try, but I think it'll be the opposite. You'll be in my system, and I won't be able to get enough. I've never met anyone like you. You treat me like a real person, not some spoiled brat. You're real, not trying to please me or earn my approval with every word falling from your full, beautiful lips. You remind me there are things that have to be worked for, to keep."

"And at the end of the week?"

"We'll see. We'll evaluate our situation, and I figure it'll end one of three ways. One, we remember our time together, two, we remain in contact, or three, I hire you on as my- full time body guard slash personal sex toy," he said with a grin. He saw the corner of her mouth twitch in a smile.

"Well, I suppose my back could use some attention too," she sighed, surrendering.

"It would be my pleasure. Flip over," he told her. She sat up and got to her knees on the couch, then bent over to push the pillows she'd been laying on to the floor.

He watched her, her ass not two feet away from his face. Be patient, he reminded himself. His plan was working.

She layed on her stomach, her arms under her head.

"Would you like the lotion treatment?" he asked. When she nodded, he continued. "I think you'd need to remove your top for the full effect." She sat up, still facing away from him, and lifted her arms above her head silently, waiting for him to lift it.

He brought his hands slowly to the lacy hem of her tank top, and pulled it up gently, revealing her smooth skin beneath inch by inch. He bit back a groan when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He powered through the strong desire to just take her breasts in his hands and start now, but instead, lifted the tank over her head and tossed it on the floor.

She layed back down on her stomach with her arms under her head, her body tingling in anticipation of his warm slick hands on her. She felt him straddled her legs, her ass firmly between his legs. A moan escaped from her when she felt his unmistakable erection press against her. He laughed softly, and placed his hands on her lower back, right above the top of her shorts, and ran his hands up her back. She sighed contentedly, and let him work his magic. He was very thorough, rubbing her shoulders, lower back, neck, and occasionally, testing the limit again by caressing her ribs, trying to sneak his fingers underneath. She enjoyed his hands for half an hour, and she felt so relaxed. The more time that went by, the more she felt like she should return the favor, but then reminded herself that he felt owed to her, and that was the reason for this glorious massage. He worked lower on her back. When he wasn't trying to get at her chest, he was dipping his fingertips under her shorts.

"Shit, you might as well take them off too, you know you want to," she said into the cushion. She didn't have to tell him twice. His weight was off of her instantly, and she felt her shorts slide down her legs. He straddled her legs again, but a little lower this time, and instantly went to work massaging her ass, the last part of her backside he'd yet to touch.

He rubbed her entire back side for a little while, and occasionally he would let his fingertips graze his ultimate goal. He massaged her back for another twenty minutes, and each time he'd casually brush the apex of her thighs, he could feel her grow progresively hotter, and it turned him on.

"Well, do you think the back side is completely taken care of?" he asked, sitting back on his heels, anxious.

She turned her face so it was towards the ignored t.v. "I think you did a very good job. So well, I can hardly move," she said with a smile.

"Are you too tired for the other side?" He tried to hide the disappointment.

She laughed softly. "If you can flip me over, you can massage away to your heart's content," she conceded, still smiling. She knew this wouldn't be a challenge for him. She might as well make him work for it the rest of the way, knowing now she would cave to him eventually. Before she knew it, she was being lifted off the couch, and set down gently on her back.  
He straddled her knees and drank her in. She was perfect in every way- of course, he knew she would be. Her hair had dried during the massage, and was now splayed over the pillow. Her frame was thin but curvy, soft in all the right places, firm in the rest. Perfectly balanced. He immediately thought of ying and yang. Was he one and she the other? When she moved her leg, it snapped him out of his gaze.

"Massage or mentally ingraining?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she told him with a roll of her eyes. "Hey!" she exclaimed when he went digging for his phone.

"Don't worry, I don't want to share this with everyone," he told her, lining up the camera. He took one of her from her shoulders up, heavy lidded and smiling, then showed it to her. "Is that approved?"

She looked at it. Was that really her? She looked so much prettier than she felt. Maybe because of all the male attention she'd been getting the last two hours. She smirked. "I suppose," she sighed.

"Thank you. I'm gonna save it really quick..." He tucked it back into his pocket when he was finished, and added more lotion to his hands. Placing them on her taught stomach, and began in slow, small circles.

She closed her eyes, and concentrated on his hands. A moan escaped her when he placed his hands on her breasts, her nipples hardening instantly. She opened her eyes, and saw him smiling. He caressed every part of her, and her limbs felt like mush. Her brain felt like mush. Every time his fingers would skim her nipples, or follow her hip bones down, her stomach quivered. She knew she couldn't take much more of this without release, so she started giving him hints. When he'd stroke her breasts, she'd arch her back and moan, or when his hands wandered lower, she'd lift her hips. This brought a huge grin to his face.

"Maybe we should move to the bed?"

"Again- body, noodles."

He shook his head, still smiling. "Here." He tucked the lotion in his pocket, and lifted her up off the couch, and carried her bridal style to her room and set her on the pile of pillows. "Do you have a lighter?"

"In the top nightstand drawer here," she flung an arm in the direction of her nightstand.

He opened it and found the lighter, then went around the room lighing her white and silver candles, making the room smell like roses. He turned off the light and put her lighter back in the drawer, set the lotion on the table, then resumed the same position he'd had on the couch, and continued to work her body to a hot frenzy. He didn't stop until she was writhing with need. His hands didn't stop, but he leaned down to kiss her softly, tasting her slowly, drawing it out as much as possible. She began to whimper beneath him, and he knew the time he'd waited for was close, and it would be sweet. She was a bundle of hot, wet need. He drew one of his hands away, and slid it between them, and touching where she wanted him most. He closed his eyes, reveling in her soft readiness. He wanted only one thing more than plunging deep into her, and that was to taste her. He slid down her body, pushed her feet up so her knees were bent, and lifted her hips. He heard her moan, and it was then with the tip of his tongue, he licked her, taking his time to savor her. She began panting, and grasping at the comforter, tossing her head back and forth. It made him smug to know he could make an independant, strong women like her quiver with need for him. He feasted on her. He'd never tasted anything like her before, and he was addicted right away. He needed more, and knew once wasn't going to be enough. He licked and sucked on her, driving her closer to the edge he could tell she was nearing.

"I- I- I'm going to..." she panted, clenching the bed tightly. God he had an amazing tongue. He knew all the places to touch and when, and she needed to warn him that she was going to combust any moment. But unlike some guys, he didn't pull away.

He felt her come hard around his tongue, and he loved every minute of it. He loved being able to make her loose control like this. He waited for her to calm down, and when she was still, he moved to brace himself over her, face to face, looking down into her eyes in the candle light.

"Hey," he said with a smile, wiping a strand of hair out of her face.

"Hey," she replied, her voice thick. "That was, amazing," she said after a moment.

"I'm glad, that was my first goal," he told her.

"First?"

"First. At least one more for tonight still," he said with a shrug, as he watched her eyes go wide. "Let me give you tonight," he whispered.

She could only nod, her head full of fog. He sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it towards the door.

She helped him undo his jeans and work them off, eventually joining his shirt.

"In the drawer below the lighter," she said softly. He reached over and found what he was looking for, then closed the drawer. She helped him put it on, caressing his length as they went.

Finally, they joined in the most intimate way, savoring the moment before they began their rhythem.

She looked up at him, into his eyes, searching. She could feel it, feel him inside her, while her heart thawed. She could invision her heart, encased completely in an inch of ice. Now it was half melted, revealing a large odly sewn tear, as the ice water dripped at a quick steady pace. A pace that matched his hips. She knew that with this next approaching orgasm, her heart would be unprotected, open and vulnerable to him. Pushing the afterward options he'd given from her mind, she concentrated on his movements. His hips, and his mouth on her left breast, his fingers on her right. She dug her fingers into his hair, encouraging. His hips moved faster, his pace quickening. Faster and faster until she came undone around him, gasping his name.

Her orgasm, and his name falling from her lips was enough to tip him over the edge, pushing into her one final time as his release exploded through him.

He collapsed on top of her, then rolled them onto their sides as they recovered.

As she looked into his eyes, her throat tightened, the first clue tears were coming. That was the absolute last thing she wanted, especially now. Fighting them back, she moved her hips so they were no longer connected, and rolled onto her back, not wanting eye contact either. She was too close to breaking.

He didn't fully understand why she'd turned away, but he could tell she needed a moment to collect herself. As he disposed of the condom, he wondered what demons she was fighting- besides for the obvious, her sleeping with a client. But he had a feeling it was more than that. On one hand he was proud of himself for being able to seduce her and get what he wanted, but was it worth what she was going through? The sex had been amazing, and he hoped that if they did it again, she would be a little more uninhibited. He knew part of her reasons for that too.

He walked around the room and blew out the candles, trying to decide what to do. Give her space, or pull her close? With his decision made, he pulled the blankets on the bed back and tossed the extra pillows on the floor. He got her under the covers and slid in next to her. She would kick him out if she wanted differently, right? He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She didn't fight, but she wasn't exactly willing, either. Regardless, he wanted her to know he was there for her, any way he could. He watched the clock change, and ten minutes later, he could tell she was still awake, but he was fighting a loosing battle with sleep. When she still hadn't sent him away, his final thought was about who he was going to wake up with tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Meet me at the bottom, a little news for you. Anyway.

I'm not really good with angst, not a big fan of it, as I read/write to get away from mine. But unfortunately it does make a small appearance in this chapter, but it'll pass quick. Also another mature chapter.

A little look into Esmeralda Hale.

* * *

She glanced at the clock, it was 12:30. She knew he'd fallen asleep a little bit ago. He'd put aside his t.v. time to lay with her. Why did he have to be so damn sweet? She'd given him nothing, and even in his sleep he continued to comfort her, just by being there. At least he was asleep, and wouldn't notice her silent tears. She was so confused. First, she'd slept with a client. That was her biggest rule, and with a couple hour massage, dinner and flowers, it was broken. Maybe she was weak, his hands were her Achille's heel.

Second, this arrangement with him- in no way permanant. And here she was, getting attached. She squeezed her eyes closed tight, tears escaping, running down into her ears- which she hated. Why did he have to sound so sure, optimistic and casual about their outcome? Would he be happy with just a fling, his first option?

As if he could read her mind in his sleep, he pulled her closer and sighed.

He didn't seem the type to hit and run. Yeah, he had some of the characteristics of being able to pull one off without becoming ruined, but his romantic actions said something else. Maybe he was looking for more, she pondered, her cop mind overanalyzing everything.

Third, if he _was_looking for more, and she was secretly hoping he was, would she be able to go that route? She definitely wouldn't cry to loose Grainger, the dick, but he'd been good to her. He was the one to suggest her job when she needed the change- when she'd come into work that day, trying her best to use her work as an escape from her personal life. Obviously hadn't succeeded. She thought back to that day, two years ago.

She'd been at her desk, stairing blankly at a report on her computer screen, when Grainger approached her, scaring the shit out of her. On any normal occasion, that wasn't possible. She knew he could tell something was up with her, so he'd called her into his office. He'd asked what her deal had been the last couple days, and then today with her being completely unresponsive. She'd broke down and admitted that her fiance, with the wedding a couple weeks away, was cheating on her, and she'd walked in on them. Her fiance, and another man and woman. And it was obvious he was enjoying the male's company a lot more than the female's. Then yesterday, she'd made all the cancellations of flowers, photographer, catering and hall, and broke the news to her family and friends. Then today, she just wasn't on her game. Grainger had sent her home, sunglasses on to cover her red, puffy eyes as she exited the station, and told her to not come back for two days. He'd called her the next afternoon, with a new soloution. A bump in pay, different hours, case by case basis. She'd taken the offer gladly, and took her first client the following day.

Her heart ached, remembering that day, and her ex-fiance, and how he'd destroyed her world as she knew it. She'd been forced to become the badass slash cold bitch, who only had flings, no emotions attached. And now, here her client was, knocking her walls down with a wrecking ball made of persistance and romance. She wasn't sure if she could give Rob what he wanted, if that's what he wanted. But it was too soon for even him to know if that's what he wanted, let alone ask him flat out.

Sighing, she glanced at the clock. Almost one. She needed to be up in four hours. Resolving with herself to try to be normal tomorrow, like nothing had happened until she could gage his reaction, she closed her eyes, falling into a fitful sleep.

She woke up a half an hour before her alarm went off and couldn't fall back to sleep, so she decided to get up. Carefully, she lifted his arm off of her and set it on the bed, then pulled her leg slowly from between his, and felt her way to the bathroom. No sense in grabbing clothes, he'd seen everything now. Feeling the wall for the light, she closed the door and flicked the switch, trying to not wake him. She started the shower and completed her routine, and tiptoed her way to her dresser, the first light of morning filtering gently throuh her curtains.

"You're up early," he said, his voice scratchy with sleep.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep anymore. Sorry I woke you," she said.

"Not a problem. You okay?"

She thought about her conclusion before her nap. "Yeah, I'm fine," she answered.

"Really?"

"Yes, thank you." She moved to her closet and slipped into her underwear, then dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt and chucks. She came out of the closet, and found him sitting at the edge of the bed, blankets rumpled around, but not covering him. She could just barely make out his face in the dim light.

"How did you sleep? You didn't get your t.v. last night," she said with a smile as she went to him, stopping just out of his grasp, taking in his messy hair and stubble along his jaw.

Of course he reached for her, and after a moment of hesitation- taking his nakedness into consideration, she took that final step for him to pull her against him, between his legs.

His nose traced the curve of her neck as he said, "I didn't need a t.v., I had a better distraction."

She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, admiring his profile. It was time to be honest. "Thank you for staying with me last night, it meant a lot."

"You're welcome," he sighed. "Glad I could help _you_for once," he said with a laugh.

She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes before the alarm. "I'm sorry about how I acted afterwards, I want you to know what you gave to me last night was perfect, and I'm sorry if I led you to think otherwise," she said quietly.

"I honestly never once thought that," he said, pulling her down onto his lap, his arms around her waist.

"I was experiencing conflicting emotions," she said vaguely.

"I could tell it was something along those lines, and had I known it'd be so rough for you, maybe I wouldn't have tried so hard to seduce you. Key word being maybe," he said, using her phrase, a smile on his lips.

"Believe me, if I hadn't wanted it, it wouldn't have happened."

"So do you more than kind of like me now?" he asked playfully.

"That's the question of the day, isn't it? Honestly, right now, I know I could, but I'm trying not to."

"While I understand some of your reasons, I still have to ask why the hell-" he was inturrupted by the alarm. He reached for his phone to turn it off, careful not to let her slide. "Is it because I'm a client or because I'll be having a different schedule in three days?"

"Both, and more. Maybe I'll tell you about it some time. And until then, you have to get to work."

"Fine. To be continued," he said, and kissed her forehead gently before he released her.

"Fine," she said, stepping away from him, retrieved her gun harness from her closet, then headed to the kitchen while he got ready.

After a quick breakfast of fruit and coffee, they were off to the set.

The day went by smoothly, and secretly Esme was a little disappointed, and a little bored. The only news on their hotel burglury was just that the prints in the hotel room were a mystery. Nothing matched on the empty bottle in the system, and no hairs on the sheet for DNA. She was so frustrated she was practically pacing a worn path in the pavement around his trailer. Even though she knew this was the most likely scenereo from the beginning, to not have a lead, it grated her none the less.

Time seemed to pass slowly, and even Rob couldn't get her out of her funk when she took him to his trailer and back a couple times. It wasn't until they were in the safety of her apartment when she tried to be personable.

"What were you wanting to do tonight?" She called, taking her shoes off in her closet.

"Well, a home cooked meal sounds about perfect right now," he said from her bedside. "I could-"

"You're right. I appreciate the offer, but I'll do it. Maybe it'll help me work some of this nervous energy," she told him, standing in the doorway. He smiled and stepped out of her way. She seemed so on edge about something.

She made her way to the kitchen and began rooting around the cupboards and fridge, while he made himself comfortable in a chair at the table to watch. He knew from his experience with women, when they were like this, it was best to stay out of their way and keep your mouth shut, and your ears open. It was just a matter of time.

He watched her chop what looked to be peppers then saute them, and prepare some kind of meat, then finally tortillas. The whole process took about half an hour, until she started setting the table. He watched her curiously as she reached in a top cupboard corner, then smiled when she produced a bottle of Chardonnay and two wine flutes.

Setting the items down on the table, she turned back to the stove to plate their dinner. She served the fajitas.

"Officer Hale, these smell delicious," he said, breathing in the aroma.

"Thank you. I'm famous for them," she told him with a smile. The whole "Officer Hale" thing seemed out of place, but she still wasn't ready for him to call her Esme. But they'd already slept together- that kind of put everything out there. Shit. She took a deep breath. Guess she'd just have to get used to it. Before she could ask him to call her Esme, he beat her to the punch with another question.

"Any news on the case yet?"

"Nothing good, just that like we thought when it started, the prints don't match any we have, so no leads," she told him. He nodded. "But something is going to happen, I can feel it. Nothing did today, and I think that's bad," she warned him.

So that's why she was in a mood.

"I just don't know if it'll be big enough to halt filming and keep you inside. I just don't know," she said, looking into her glass of wine. She only looked up when she heard a plop. His fajita had emptied its self on his plate. With a smirk, she looked at his face. It was frozen in surprise.

"S- stop shooting? It's that serious? We're almost done!" he exclaimed.

"And the unknown adds to the stress. I don't do well with the unknown," she murmured, swirling her glass.

"Add to the stress?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, and sighed. "Yes, because nothing can happen to you. It's not just my job, but-" she didn't continue.

He leaned forward slightly, food forgotten. "But?"

"But, nothing can happen to you because I kind of like you a little more than I should," she admitted.

He sat back in his chair, stunned. Did she just say that?

"But don't push it," she warned him. "Not today."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said with a smirk, then continued with his meal. "Do you think I'm in danger?" He asked after a minute.

"No, not danger, they're stalking you, not trying to hurt you, I'm pretty sure of that. I'm also sure you won't mind me being on you like white on rice for the next day or two, until the next occurance happens," she said with a smirk. She pushed her stray peppers around her plate, thinking. She glanced up at him when she got no response.

He just grinned.

"I didn't think so," she said. "I might even up security. Get another officer to watch your trailer. Yeah," she mused out loud as she finished her dinner.

She leaned back in her chair and watched him finish his last bite.

"Oh my God Officer Hale, those were incredible," he said, his mouth full.

She grinned. "About that," she began. She continued when she had his attention, his eyebrows raised. "The whole "Officer" thing, well, I think that's a little formal now, after... So I think Esme would be fine," she told him. His eyes grew wide.

"You're serious?" She nodded. "Wow. It must be true you kind of like me," he said, disbelief in his voice.

"I said don't push it," she warned.

"Right, right."

She didn't give him a chance to say anything else. She stood, picked up her plate and took his. "Did you want more?" she asked.

"Another would be great."

She served him, then began cleaning up her mess. As she was washing the dishes, she felt his hand on her left hip as his right placed his spotless plate in her soapy water. He swept her ponytail over her left shoulder, placed his hand on her other hip, and began kissing her neck.

This interlude she could deal with. Fairly impersonal, purely physical.

She tilted her head to the left, giving him more access as his hands slid up her sides. It was now or never, she thought, warring between her brain and body. If she stopped, that would mean last night was a mistake, and it would set them back to square one. And to be honest, that wasn't as appealing as it used to be, regardless of the outcome. If it was now, she wanted to take the initiative.

She turned off the water, dried her hands quickly on her jeans, then turned into him. She slid her hands into his hair and pulled him closer, their lips crashing together. This she could do. A quick fuck was familiar and unpainful territory.

"Esme," he murmured in pleasant surprise. She released his hair and slid her hands down his chest, grasping the hem of his t-shirt. Pushing it over his head and discarding it on the floor, she began to work on his belt.

"Esme, slow down," he said against her mouth.

"I want it hard and fast, now," she panted. "Take me here on the counter."

"Shit," he muttered as his jeans were undone. This was the last thing he was expecting, but those words from her mouth did something to him. Wanting to show he could play 0 to 60 in 2.2 seconds too, he tugged her shirt over her head, and began on her jeans. She pushed his down as far as she could reach without breaking their kiss, then used her foot to finish the job.

Caressing him through his boxer briefs, she was pleased to know he was ready to go. After removing his final barrier, she stroked him, her fingers able and confident.

He slid her jeans down before he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up, setting her on the counter. He slid his hands up her body to her bra, and folded the cups of her bra under, lifting her breasts for easier access. He tore his mouth from hers and went directly to her right breast, his teeth grazing her nipple while his left index finger and thumb rolled her left. His right hand continued south, finding her wet and ready.

She moaned as he found and rubbed that magic button. She tugged on him, lining him up with her entrance.

"Now," she commanded, digging her nails into his hips. He did as she asked, sliding into her quickly, setting a rapid pace, his fingers and mouth still performing their tasks.

She felt her orgasm build as she nibbled on his jaw, her hands roaming his toned body. "Rob," she pleaded. He responded by pinching her clit gently, and sent her shattering into a thousand pieces.

Before she could see again, she was moving, being carried.

"My turn," he said, standing her in front of the table, then bending her over. "Grab the other side, and hold on," he warned. "You wanted it hard and fast."

She semi-coherently held on to the opposite end of the table, and squeaked out in surprise as he slid into her from behind. His pace was brutal as the front of his thighs struck the back of hers, driving them both to the edge.

"Oh God," she panted, so close to her second orgasm.

"Fuck Es, I've thought about taking you like this," he told her, his fingers digging into her hips, holding her still. "You feel so good."

"Shit!" she exclaimed, the explosion taking control of her a second time.

He held on a moment longer, getting the timing perfect. He pulled out of her, and finished himself by his hand, spilling on her lower back with a grunt.  
As she tried to catch her breath, he found the paper towels behind him, got one wet, then went to clean her off carefully. When the task was done, he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her down on top of him as he sat on the floor, resting, his back against the cupboards.

"Was that okay?" he asked after a moment.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yes," she said confidently. Her head was fuzzy, but comfortable in the crook of his shoulder, his warm arms wrapped around her. His chin was resting on the top of her head, and she sighed in contentment, fighting off sleep. She was exhausted.

"Bed?" he asked quietly.

She could only nod.

He stood carefully with her in his arms, then went to the bedroom and layed her down softly on her side of the bed. Making sure all the phones were plugged in with alarms set, he layed next to her, only their fingertips touching. He layed still, thinking about what she'd said about the case, about having to postpone shooting, and no leads, and what this would mean to the studio. Not wanting to worry any more about it until it happened, he gave into his body's need for rest.

* * *

A/N: I'm finished writing this story, just going through the editing and formatting stages. There will be eight chapters total. And since I've finished this story, I've been thinking about if I should post another, so I was looking through my vault, seeing if any were suitable. A particular one came to my attention, another Rob story with a different fictional character, but it started out as a oneshot- so I'm working on that next, and if I finish it in the next little bit, I might post it. If you're interested in reading it, follow me as an author, keep checking back, or follow me on Twitter. I'll probably post it randomly.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Only this edited version has the lemon, not the original. Almost didn't make the cut, but I liked the beginning of it too much to cut it and still make it work.

* * *

They were finishing up breakfast when her phone rang.

Thinking it was unusual, she pulled out her phone and looked at the display. Grainger.

"Hale here," she greeted.

"Hale. Where are you right now?"

"Still at my place, leaving in about two. Why?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her mind.

"There was another incident," he said. "I was informed by the studio about ten minutes ago that Mr. Pattinson's trailer had been broken into. Nothing was stolen this time, but there was a full legal size manilla envelope, with his name on it. Apparantly his makeup artist was setting up for the day, and came across it, and called the director. He called the studio, who in turn called me. I sent the forensics team over to pick it up and dust for prints, as well as the rest of the trailer. I wanted to inform you that you were not to report him to his trailer, but at the extras', just temporarilly."

"Shit!" she exclaimed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall, her free hand rubbing her temple. "Damn it. Have they opened it?"

"Yes," was all he said.

"Don't fuck with me, Grainger," she warned.

He sighed. "Alright. There were pictures." He paused. "Pictures of an unknown female, wearing a small black hat with a lace veil hiding her eyes- only blood red lips and down visible of her face, in what appears to be Mr. Pattinson's clothes, performing different tasks around the original suite you had stayed in. Dishes, making coffee, pretending to fix a meal. The second set of pictures are of the same female in the hat, again posing in the same situations, but in your second hotel room. I think a couple of them she even had your clothes on, but those poses were mocking."

"Son of a bitch!" she screeched, jumping up from her chair. "She'd just better wait-"

"Hale. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we still don't know who it is, with no leads. Hey- my phone is beeping, and it's forensics. I'll call you back."

Esme stood, rage coursing through her, her phone dead in her hand, which was shaking.

"Es," Rob said quietly.

She slid her eyes towards him, the rage turning to steel as their gaze met. His eyes were pleading. She took a deep breath.

"Remember how I said yesterday I felt something worse was going to happen," she said, voice monotone. He nodded slowly. "It just did. Let's go if you're ready," she told him.

"But-"

"In the car," she inturrupted. He nodded, and leaving their breakfast mess, they made their way to her car. He had to jog a couple steps to keep up with her.

"Where are we going?" he asked, once she'd started the car.

"You have to work," she told him. "Then I have to hunt a bitch down," she murmured, trying to think of something they've missed. "Your stalker is a girl," she told him, her mind running. "She left a present for you in your trailer this morning, which your makeup artist found, then reported. Pictures."

She glanced over at him. It agitated her that he was so calm. It was like that stuff happened all the time. Maybe it did, but she highly doubted they were the same type of pictures. "She was wearing a black hat with a lace veil, blood red lips, and your clothes."

There was the reaction she was waiting for. His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped, horrified.

"Those were in the first hotel room, the suite. Pretending to cook, clean, stupid shit. The next batch of pictures were the same, but in the second room, and she threw on some of my clothes for shits and giggles." He still had the same expression on his face. "As soon as I find which clothes, I'm burning them," she said outloud. "But orders are I'm supposed to take you to the extras' trailer as yours in being swept by forensics."

"Bloody fucking Christ," he said, rubbing his face in his hands.

Her phone beeped, signaling a text. _No prints again_, it said, from Grainger of course.

"Damn it," she mumbled. She knew there wouldn't be. Pulling up to the row of trailers, she parked next to the extras' trailer. She got out first, circled the car, and opened his door, closing it behind him. "You know what this means, right?" she asked, standing next to him.

"White on rice?" he said with a grin.

"Yep," she said, popping the p. She escorted him up the steps and opened the door, let him in, and closed it, then sat on the second step to pull out her phone. She texted Grainger back.

_I thought about it yesterday, but today seems necessary. Can we get an officer strictly for his trailer, 24 hrs?  
_  
A minute later, he responded. _Yes. Starting now. Officer Paykee  
_  
_thanks  
_  
She couldn't see Rob's trailer from where she was, it was on the other side of the one next to them. She sighed, thinking how rediculous this whole situation was becoming. Not just with the stalker, but them. Combined, it was a shitstorm. And still, she was sure the worst was yet to come.

She stood and escorted him to the scene, standing at the edge of the crowd, and never left. Her eyes scanning the crowd constantly. She knew a lot of people were here that were just watching, and that was normal. But was one of them the staker? That was the part that pissed her off. She'd been in both their hotel rooms, wearing their clothes. And now, she'd been in his trailer. She had to have some high access. She knew that the tapes from the hotel had come up empty, as well as the staff on shift both times. The two girls they'd had in custody said they'd heard he was here, like everybody else, and with the info from the desk like they'd originally said, they'd found his room, and swore up and down, passing a polygraph test they had no further intentions than hopes of more with him once at his room, where she'd intercepted them. They seemed innocent enough, but then they tried again, with the general knowlede of where the movie was being shot, and his trailer labeled clearly. It seemed to be a coincidence. Anybody with two braincells could try that. Shit, the one girl wasn't even dressed up in a delivery uniform. But they'd had to let them go, with no proof of anything.

She stopped her train of thought when she saw him approach her. They walked to the trailer.

"I had a officer assigned to guard your trailer twenty four hours," she told him. "Damn it, I should have asked when I thought about it yesterday."

"Well I personally, am kind of glad she did it there instead of somewhere more creepy," he reassured her. "And I agree with you on the whole burning clothes thing, but maybe not the burning. Getting rid of them, definitely. But I'd need new clothes," he flashed his crooked grin at her.

"Oh no," she said as they climbed the steps.

"I'd buy you a dress for the wrap party," he added.

"Again with the bribery? Go get ready," she told him, giving him a gentle push with a small smile. He chuckled, then disappeared into his trailer. Sitting down on the step again, she hadn't even thought about the wrap party. That place was going to have to be high security. She wondered where it would be. She secretly hoped it wouldn't be in the hotel where the majority of the cast members still stayed. They hadn't been bothered with a stalker and run out of the hotel. Her anger began to boil again, when he materialized next to her, in a different outfit. This one made her jaw drop. It wasn't his usual variant of jeans and t-shirts, but a blue suit. Her anger dissipated instantly, and lust curled wickedly through her veins. Trying to compose herself, she stood and decended the steps, a couple ahead of him. She was tugged backwards by her hand, bumping against him at the landing of the stairs. She looked up at him, and he was smling.

"You like this one," he said quietly.

"You- I mean I- no," she shook her head trying to form a coherant thought. Yes! her mind screamed. "Fine," she huffed. "You always look- but- shit! Let's go," she snapped, then turned on her heel. She could hear him laughing behind her. She rolled her eyes when he stepped through the crew to the scene, and the crowd, mostly girls, screamed when they saw him in the suit. She watched him give a brief wave to the crowd, then get to work. Now how the hell was she supposed to think about the case when he looked like that? And to know he was going to her place afterwards? She suddenly got nervous, then surprised. It wasn't until then, until he had the suit on, did it sink in that he was _the_ Robert Pattinson. When he was in jeans and t-shirts, it was like he was a regular, although extremely good looking, guy. But in a suit? He was professional. She wondered why the suit defined him in such a way. Even after spending the last four days on set, nothing put it into perspective like that suit. She suddenly couldn't wait for the wrap party. Wait. Rephrasing. She couldn't wait until _after_the wrap party. Her body temperature began to rise as she thought about peeling him slowly out of the suit he'd wear to the party, but then came crashing to the ground when he winked at her. She turned her cheek towards him, pretending to look at something else, as she knew her face was tomato red. When she'd calmed, and was sure she could look at him without fangirling, she returned her gaze to him as he recited his lines. She had to admit he was good at what he did.

As the sun began to set and he was in his trailer changing out of her favorite suit, she tried to keep her mind on the stalker.

In the car, he asked, "Any news on the pictures?" with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She'd been awfully quiet since this afternoon, after she'd seen him in the suit.

"No prints," she sighed. "I'm half tempted to request copies of the files to study, but then I remind myself I'm not the detective, just the muscle. But something is nagging at me, something we're overlooking, and I can't put my finger on it, and it's frustrating."

"Where do you think they're overlooking?"

"Something with the two girls, and who gave that info to them. The officers checked the cameras and all employees on shift at the time, and they're all clear. The girls are fucking clear. They took a damn polygraph for fucks' sake." She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "I wish I had a gym," she mumbled. "And we still need clothes," she sighed. "And I want to see those pictures," she finished, as she turned onto her street.

"Well, we could go to your station. They have a gym, the files you want, and the pictures," Rob suggested. "Three out of four."

She turned to him. "We can't do that, that's not a proper evening for a guest," she told him.

"Es, fuck the guest shit. I want to see the pictures too, and I know I could use some gym time also. I don't need a perfect night every night. Let's go to the station. After we change and eat. I'm assuming the station's open twenty four seven, right?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Let's do this. We're at your place already, so we get some gym clothes, then go find a food vendor up by 5th Ave. Get us some new clothes, since the wrap party's tomorrow-"

"Shit! Already?!"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Then we go to the station. Look at the pictures, get angry, then use the gym. Go back to your place, and finish up the night with hot angry shower sex," he said with a grin.

Luckilly she was parked in her assigned stall by then, so she didn't swerve when she turned to gape at him.

"I'm serous," he said before she could ask, the smile still on his face.

Aw, what the hell, she could pretend that wasn't a good plan all she wanted, but she knew that was all going to happen.

"Well, shit Rob," was all she could say. Taking the keys out of the ignition and slipping them into her pocket, she got out and went to his door, to meet him. "I guess if you want to put it like that."

He laughed as they made their way up to her place.

After closing her door behind them and locking it, they got their stuff together, and shoved it all into her waiting duffle bag, the NYPD logo displayed proudly on the side. She quickly changed into a thong and strapless bra, tossing a regular one in the bag.

She loved shopping, but the thought of him paying didn't agree so well with her.

They made their way back to the car, chatting about the wrap party tomorrow, and what to expect. She asked him where it would be, and he confirmed her original idea. In their old hotel's reception room. She told him she'd be upping the security at least two-fold. He'd been expecting that.

Half an hour later, after her navigating the rediculous New York traffic, she found a parking spot. She waited for him to put on a cap, and fortunately it was twilight, so no one would notice him unless they really looked. They found a hot dog stand, and walked as they ate.

"Where did you want to shop?" she asked.

"Let's try Gucci first. They make great suits, and I bet we could find a lovely dress for you," he said. She nearly choked on her hot dog. Gucci?! She loved it as much as the next girl, but that shit was expensive!

"Alright," she sighed. Weaving through the crowd, they were able to finish their dinner in time for the store. He opened the door for her, and instantly they were greeted by sales people. But as soon as he took off his hat- hell broke loose. Women were batting their eyelashes at him, and the men were bowing like he was royalty. None of them spared her any type of glance but "what is _he_ doing with _her_?" She finally took her badge out, and let it hang over her t-shirt. They were nicer to her then.

"Is Antonio working by chance?" Rob asked the small group around him vying for his attention, and commission.

The crowd parted, and the man she was guessing was Antonio, approached them with a smile.

"Mr. Pattinson. Welcome back. I see you've brought- a friend," he finished, bowing slightly.

"Yes, good to see you Antonio. I've come to you today in a bit of need, and I trust your opinions."

How many times had he been here before? He's got a fucking expert on call! She rolled her eyes, then glanced around the room. The floors, walls and furniture were cream, all with gold accents. Miles and miles of fabrics added color. After a moment, they were being led somewhere, and she had to admit, they did have some nice stuff. Stuff she would like to own- like that purse. Gah. She wiped her mouth to make sure there wasn't any drool.  
They were led to a small sitting area in front of a set of dressing rooms. As Rob was telling Antonio what he needed, he mentioned Esme, and her attention was called. Rob was talking about how they needed a dress for the wrap party tomorrow, and how he needed a suit, and extra shirts in general, as some were recently ruined. Antonio clapped excitedly then stood, taking off to begin his task. They were served wine and crackers while they waited.

"So Antonio gets everything for you?" she asked.

Rob turned towards her, their knees touching. "Yes, I tell him what I want, he finds it, I approve or disapprove, as will you with the dresses. Antonio has helped me quite a bit the few times I've been here, and like I've said, I trus his judgement. He's never steered me wrong so far."

He did look good most the time, she thought. Maybe he's not horrible.

Behind Rob, she saw Antonio begin hanging dresses in a dressing room, then take off again.

"See anything you like?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, not wanting to elaborate.

"Which ones? Show me," he asked, standing. He reached for her hand and helped her up. Champagne flutes in hand, they crossed to the women's dresses section of the store, and he trailed closely behind her. She looked closely, but trying to be quick to not bore him.

"This one is nice," she said, tilting a hangar towards them. It was a simple red strapless dress that hemmed at the knees, and a thin black belt accented the waist.

"Hmm, that's a nice dress, but a little plain for you, I think," he commented.

She dared to look at the pricetag. Shit. Fourteen ninety five. And not fourteen dollars and ninety five cents. One thousand four hundred ninety five dollars and no cents. Holy shit. She quickly tucked the dress back in where it belonged. That was worth one good case for her to work, she thought, with a sigh. Moving on.

The next dress she dared to look at was similar, but black and long sleeved.

"So plain, Es, you need color. I know you'd look amazing in black though."

She glanced at the tag before putting it back. Just for the heart attack factor. To her surprise, it was the same price as the last one. She didnt' think there was anything that cost less. The next one was black also, sleeves to the elbows, but it had a little mini skirt around the waist, cut into a point.

"I like the little ruffle around the waist."

She did too, but not for seventeen fifty. She didn't want to spend that much even if it wasn't her money.

"It's nice," was all she said. "You know, I don't have a problem wearing a suit tomorrow, I have plenty of those," she said, hoping he'd just go along with it. She felt him close the distance between them so her back was against his chest.

"I'd like to buy you a dress," he said quietly, his breath caressing her neck. "Like you said before- I appreciate you taking my case unprepaired, so I'd like to spoil you a bit, if you don't mind." She felt the tip of his tongue trace the shell of her left ear. She shivered involuntarily. The thought of him earlier in his suit flashed to the front of her mind, and her knees almost gave out.

"Well, you make an offer hard to resist, when you put it like that."

"Good." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_," she said, and moved to the next dress. "This one is the best so far," she said, tilting the hangar. It had a roman goddess cut to it, a deep v down to her waist, cinched with an elaborately embellished belt, and a skirt with a thousand tiny pleats. It flowed to the floor.

"It's still black, but if that's it, then you can try it on. I'm sure you'll make the dress look beautiful."

So is he in full seduction mode now or what? she thought to herself. She dared to look at the tag, expecting it to be more than the last dress. She was not disappointed. As a matter of fact, she was way off.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "No wonder I like it," she grumbled as she tucked it away. "Rediculous," she sighed.

"How much was it?" he asked.

"Too much," she answered, continuing on. Seven thousand was too much. She felt the space grow between them, so she looked over her shoulder at him. He was looking at the price tag. She quickly looked forward again, trying not to pay attention. She decided to skip the rest of the black.

"Sir, ma'am, your rooms are ready," Antonio called.

Rob and Esme followed him to the prepared rooms.

"Pick whatever you like, no matter the price. But if you're torn between a couple, call for me and I'll help you decide," he said with a smile.

"Okay," she said, before they slipped into their rooms.

She looked at her selection. Two of them were black, and one was the expensive one she'd just looked at. Last, she thought to herself. Promising to herself she wasn't going to look at the tags until she'd tried them all on, she chose her first dress and began to change.

After sifting and eliminating, she found the dress. It was the other black dress. She thought it would be a good compromise- the base color of the dress was black, but it had brightly colored flowers and stems of grass down both sides. It was a halter top with a deep v, almost to her waist, and then a high slit to mid thigh slightly off center. The back, well, there was no back. That meant braless. This was it, she wasn't scared. Besides, anybody said anything rude, she'd kick their ass.

"Rob," she called.

"Yeah?"

"Opinion." She stepped out of the room on her tiptoes and waited. Antonio was no where in sight. How did he know her size anyway? It fit like a glove. Guess he _was_pretty good.

She saw his door open, and was suddenly curious as to what he was wearing when she inturrupted him. Turns out, it was perfect timing. They took eachother in. He was wearing charcoal gray dress pants, and a pale blue dress shirt, the top three buttons undone, underneath a matching gray vest. His hair was everywhere, and he had a five o'clock shadow. She had to sit down. Her knees began to buckle so she locked them, knowing this was a way to pass out. Make it quick, she thought.

"You're breathtaking," he said with a genuine smle. "I really like the dress."

"Thank you," she said, positive she was stairing. "You look..."

"Honesty," he urged.

"Like I want to drag you into the room and screw you senseless." She gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. "I- I-" she didn't know what to say to fix her word vomit. She watched him grin as he moved to her, cupping her elbows in his hands.

"That means a lot, coming from you," he said.

A throat was cleared. They both looked in the direction. Antonio.

"Is- everything okay here, sir?" He looked between them, concern in his eyes.

"Just the opposite, Antonio. We'll take both these. Her dress and my suit."

"Very well, sir. Will shoes or jewlery be needed?"

"I'll be out in a moment," he said, dismissing Antonio. With a nod, he was gone. Turning to Esme, he said, "let's change, and get to the station."

She nodded once, then dashed into the room, dying of embarrassment. When she was dressed, she finally looked at the tag. Wasn't the worst, nor the best, but still expensive. Making sure all dresses were hung as she'd found them, she tied her shoes back on before exiting the room. Hopefully she could gain some dignity back. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? Sighing, she carried the dress over her arm and waited a moment for Rob. When he didn't come out, she bent over and peeked under the half door. Empty. Standing, she left the dressing area.

"Ma'am."

Esme turned to her right to the woman speaking to her.

"I was told to tell you they're up on the third floor, and to meet them on the second, and to pick a pair of shoes while you're waiting," she said with a smile. "The elevators are this way."

Esme followed the brunette woman, dressed in a sophisticated plum pantsuit, to the elevator.

The woman pushed the two button, then turned. "Becca will assist you upstairs. Have a good evening."

As Esme waited the thirty seconds for the elevator, she wondered what was up on the third floor.

When the doors opened on the second floor, it was like she'd died and gone to shoe heaven. Walls and walls of shoes of all different kinds. Trying to not be like a kid in a candy store and take off running, she walked quickly to a display of ankle boots.

"Hello, my name is Becca," she greeted.

"Hi. Esmeralda."

"Find anything you'd like to try on?"

"Definitely."

It seemed like two minutes had passed, when she heard the ding of the elevator, and the two men's voices carrying across the open space. She watched him cross the room, and his expression when he realized she was surrounded by shoe boxes.

"Found your weakness," he grinned wickedly.

"What can I say?" she asked with a shrug as she pulled on a black mid calf high platform boot. She held out her leg to admire, then looked up at him. He was stairing.

"Found your weakness," she shot back.

"Yeah, sexy boots and hot cops," he admitted, his grin crooked.

Her breath hitched. She saw Becca and Antonio exchange a "oooh" look, but it lasted only a second.

"Which ones do you like then?"

She laughed. "Oh so many, but I can't decide between these tie up ankle boots, or these strappy platforms. Which do you think? I think the boots would be helpful in concealing my gun, but the heels are so cute." She didn't fail to notice Becca and Antonio move back a bit when she'd mentioned her gun. She couldn't contain her grin. She began to put her shoes back on.

"We'll take all three, the tall boots, ankle boots, and heels," he told Antonio. With a nod he began to quickly box up the shoes.

"Rob! I think you're just showing off now," she told him, standing.

"Maybe," was all he said, his grin mischevious.

He led her towards the stairs, letting Antonio and Becca take care of their purchases. He knew everything would be waiting for them downstairs in a moment.

"Well, thank you," she said, as they began their decent.

"You're welcome. You're just going to have to model them for me later," he told her.

"So that's the catch," she said with a smile, nudging him with her elbow.

"Always."

"So, according to your plan, the next stop is the station?"

"Yeah."

They reached the first floor, and was greeted by Antonio.

"Payment, sir," he requested. Rob passed him a card. "Thank you kindly."

While Antonio was away, they waited by the store entrance, as their purchases were brought to them.

"I'll go get the car," she said. When he nodded, she took off, her mind wondering the whole way and back about what was on the third floor of the store. Pulling up in front of the store, double parking by a taxi, she turned on her hazards and unlocked the trunk. With his hat back on, Rob began carrying the first of the boxes out, and loading them in. A couple trips later, they were finally on their way to the station.

"Hale! What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Nice to see you too, Grainger. I could say the same about you. Why you here? You're never at the station later than five. This is Mr. Pattinson, by the way," she said. "My boss, we call him Grainger, it's his nickname because his real name is a mouthful." She grinned at her boss. He lifted an eyebrow.  
"Do I dare ask?" Rob said, hitching the gym bag up farther onto his shoulder.

"It's short for hard-assed son of a bitch," she told him with a smle.

"Yeah yeah Hale, get to it. Why you here? Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Pattinson," as they shook hands.

"We wanted to see the pictures, I wanted copies of the files for his case, and then we wanted to work out a little pent up aggrivation on the gym's punching bags."

Grainger looked at Rob in suspicion. "I don't know if I can allow that with a client, I can't risk him getting hurt."

"He's grown Grainger, besides. I'll be easy on him."

"Well..."

"Anyway, so about the pictures," she pushed.

After a moment, Grainger let them to his office. "Have a seat. Coffee?"

"No, thanks. How about some waters?" Esme asked.

"You know where they are."  
With a sigh she went to his small fridge and retrieved three bottles as Grainger pulled out a handful of manilla folders. She sat down, passing out the bottles.

"These are all copies of themselves, so you can look at them all you like. Take them with you even, to look over later, read through, whatever."  
"Anything new?" she asked.

Grainger shook his head as Rob opened the folder with the pictures. Two three by fives on each page, full color.

"Mr. Pattinson, I wanted to apologize about this entire situation-" Grainger began.

"Oh, it happenes more often than you'd think. This case just happens to be a little more extreme," he shared. "But Officer Hale here, she's been amazing. I appreciate you putting her on my case."

"Well, she is one of my best," Grainger said. "I'm glad she's been of assistance to you. And staying in her home, that's okay with you? We can put you up in another hotel."

"No, no thank you. Officer Hale's been more than accomodating, considering the circumstances."

She couldn't believe they were talking about her, like she wasn't even there! She was watching them like a badminton game, back and forth as they conversed. She noticed Grainger's raised eyebrow at Rob's last statement. She also noticed Rob was back to the 'Officer Hale' name, which she was thankful for. The last thing she needed right now was to find out they were sleeping together. She casually opened the next file and started reading the first report written in the case.

The guys talked business, and what their next steps would be, and how they were prepairing for the party tomorrow evening as Rob looked through the pictures. He sure was cool about those. A little too cool. She glanced down in front of Grainger's desk. Rob's feet were apart, but his left knee was boucing worse than a rabbit after a Red Bull. And if the speed was any indication of his anger level, she admired him. Above his waist he was as casual as if he was browsing a sports magazine, not pictues of an unbalanced girl wearing his clothes in a private hotel room. But she knew she'd be raging too as soon as she saw the pictures. As soon as he closed the folder, she closed hers and tucked his underneath.

"Anything else we need to know Grainger?" she asked.

"Not that I know of," he replied.

"Good. We'll be down in the gym."

Grainger waived them out, and she led him down.

"Thanks for the out, Es," relief flooded his voice.

"I could tell you were needed something to do. I'm impressed you kept it together so well for so long."

"Thanks, but that's my job."

"True, but I admire that."

At the locker rooms, they sorted through the bag, taking their belongings, and changing.

They met up again, throwing the bag into a corner.

"Punching bag first?" she asked.

"Wouldn't say no," he said, the agitation starting to show in his eyes. She didn't like it there. It didn't belong there. They needed to catch the crazy bitch.

They spent a half an hour at the bag, then did some situps because they couldn't be at a gym and not do them. They even did a little sparring, without the insults this time, and she showed him another self defense move. Both ready to collapse, they dragged themselves to the car and headed back to her place.

"Hey Es, you just past your driveway," Rob said.

"I know, but I have a tail."

"You- shit!" he cursed. "I'm sorry Es, I didn't mean for you to get involved in my crazy mess of a life," he said, face burried in his hands.

"It's not your fault, you didn't ask for this, you didn't do anything to encourage her behavior. You're stressed, I understand completely. But don't think for one second that this is your fault. Hang on," she warned, then turned left sharply, heading away from her place, towards JFK, hoping to loose them in the surrounding traffic. She pulled out her cell phone and tossed it to Rob. "Go into my contacts and find hard-assed son of a bitch. Call him, tell him we have a tail."

He couldn't help but laugh because she actually had that in her phone. Doing as she asked, he had to ask her their location, and direction they were heading in. After she'd given all the requested information and they'd hung up, two minutes later there was a squad car with their lights on to their right. She glanced at their tail in the rearview, but they'd disappeared. Turning again, she continued on home, constantly checking for following lights. But the only lighs were that of the squad behind her. That squad sat outside the apartment complex in the meantime.

Inside her place, he tugged his hair in frustration after bringing all the boxes up. "Now they've forced you to put a watch on your home," he groaned, crashing onto her couch. "This is beyond rediculous."

She went over to him, and layed a hand on his shoulder gently. "Let's get that shower, stick to your plan," she said softly, then tugged one of his wrists. She got him to stand after the third tug, and led him into the bathroom. It was small with both of them in there, but it wasn't as bad as she thougt it'd be.

Both naked, they'd brush against eachother brushing their teeth, getting towels, or adjusting the water. It was a different kind of foreplay, but no fingers or hands touching.

In the shower, he was still sulking. Wanting to distract him, but knowing their original plan of angry shower sex was no longer appropriate, she took his loofah, added soap, and began to wash him. As she shampooed his hair, he watched her quietly. When she finished, he did the same for her. It was more sensual then sexual. When she turned off the water, she grabbed the two towels she'd set out. They dried each other off gently, and when she knew she wouldn't get her bedding too wet, she took his hand and led him to her bed. She flicked off the overhead light and turned on the bedside lamp. Pulling back the covers, they climbed in. Laying face to face, she cupped his cheek.

"I promise everything will be okay. We will catch her, even if it's after you leave. Even if I have to make it my personal mission, my full time job. Then, I'll kick her ass and charge her to the fullest extent for every infraction I can think of."

He smiled, but didn't reach his eyes. "I appreciate your tenacity."

She watched his eyes drift closed as he leaned into her palm.

"I will get her and ruin her for what she's putting you through."

"Sounds like the maybe is just a like," he said, searching her eyes.

"Maybe," was all she answered. She closed the distance between them, and placed her lips on his, testing if he was wanting to or not.

Instantly he responded, so she knew it was an all systems go. She would be tender and slow tonight, knowing it was her turn to take care of him.  
She didn't rush, taking the time to savor his soft lips that molded to hers, the roughness of his scruffy chin brushing against her chin or upper lip, and the taste of him mixed with toothpaste. She felt his hand on her hip, and decided it was time for the next step. She moved the hand on his face up into his hair, her other hand went to lay flat on his chest. She was encouraged when his hand slid up her side and into her hair. He was kissing her a little harder now, and soon she would make her move.

She shifted her hips so she was againt him, and received her second confirmation. It was time.

She slid her hand from his chest to his shoulder, and pushed him backward, so she was leaning over him. Breaking the kiss, she smiled at him when he looked up at her. She couldn't quite pinpoint the emotion she saw in his eyes. They were like storm clouds, but a mix of trust and worry maybe.

She placed tiny kisses along his jaw, then down his chin, then began her journey south.

"Relax, enjoy," she told him, kissing his chest. She tangled her fingertips in his chest hair for a moment, reveling in their softness. She ran them over his ribs, on either side of her face. His stomach jumped when she traced her toungue along his left hipbone. She had to admit, she'd always wanted to do that. With a final good bye nip of her teeth to the taught skin over the bone, she kept her eyes on him as she coninued on.

She couldn't help but smile as he sucked in a quick breath when she took the hard tip of him into her mouth. Using every trick she knew, including bringing him right up to the edge, just to drag him back down then up again, twice, she went in for the grand finale, taking him down her throat. She was positive this was the one time she was glad she'd had practice at this.

He fisted his hands in the sheets and his face scrunched up, then he released down her throat as he called her name, his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm ripped through him.

When she knew it was okay, she quickly dashed to the bathroom and wet a hand towel, and brought it back, offering it to him. He took it with a nod, while she crawled in next to him.

"Fuck Es, had I known you could do that, I wouldn't have waited so long," he said, still laying on his back, trying to catch his breath.

"Well, we really haven't had much of a chance," she reminded him. He turned onto his side to face her, and draped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Their arms and legs entangling, they looked into each other's eyes, no words being spoken.

With a final kiss, he turned off the lamp.

A few hours later, he woke her up by tossing and turning. He usually didn't move much, she noticed, but tonight was different. He was haunted, and suffering.

She scooted next to him, trying to avoid getting bumped too hard. She began calling his name and caressing his face, trying to wake him up from whatever was chasing him. After a moment, he began to come around. When he realized where he was, he pulled her close and clung tightly, burying his face in her hair. She felt so bad for him. If she ever got a hold of the bitch who was doing this to him, she was going to inflict some serious bodilly harm. She could swear that much. Grainger would think of a way to cover her ass.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Es," he mumbled, almost inaudible on the brink of sleep.

"I'm here, I'll do my damndest to keep you safe," she promised him in a whisper. He nodded once, then was asleep again.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I hope everyone was able to get out and see Breaking Dawn 2 at least once these last couple of weeks. I can't believe it's over, and I tear up every time they put Bella's lullaby in. Sigh.

So this chapter is the last full chapter, the next is the end, but since it's short, this'll be another two-fer.

* * *

"So you're officially done now?" she asked with a bittersweet smile.

"Yep. Of course, the entire movie wasn't filmed this week, we only shot the scenes that absolutely had to be shot in New York this week. The rest were on sets in L.A."

"But of course," she agreed, waiting as he slid into the backseat of the car. After closing the door behind him and getting herself behind the wheel, she asked, "So what time do we have to be at the party again?"

"Eight." He leaned back against the seat, running his hands through his hair.

"That gives us just over four hours then. I was thinking you'd might want to get rid of those clothes today, so you don't have to worry about packing them tomorrow."

"Sure, then can get ready to go."

"Okay." She went back to her place, thinking how odd it was that with today being the last day of shooting, the stalker hadn't pulled anything yet. Yet. But with him leaving tomorrow, she knew there would be a grand finale, it was just a matter of when, and being ready for it. She knew officers were already sweeping the building, setting up extra security, and standing guard over the doors and setup of the evening, right now, hours in advance.

Constantly glancing in her rear view for a tail, only when she was positive that she didn't have one did she pull into her underground parking ramp. They made their way up, and into her place.

Bringing out the pictures and laying them on the coffee tabe, the file laying open on the floor, they started sorting through their clothes, making a pile in the middle of the living room of the items they were getting rid of. In total, Rob had five button down shirts, two pairs of underwear, and two undershirts. Esme fared better, losing her favorite skirt- the jean and lace one she'd worn their very first night out, which made her sad. She'd also lost a pair of pajamas. What made her angry about that situation was that she'd worn those pajamas again- after washing them, but before she'd seen the pictures. An ass kicking was due.

Esme got a garbage bag and put all her clothes in, then held it open for Rob to put his in. Tripple knotting the bag, she set it by the door to remember to take it to the trash. She stared at the bag a little, upset this had to be done. Rob stood beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Stupid whore, that was my favorite skirt," she said, pretending to wipe her eyes with her knuckle and sniffle.

"Yeah, that was my favorite skirt too," he sighed. "And my favorite shirt- the blue one," he said, voice defeated.

"Well, tonight's your last night, and unless she decides to hijack the plane, I'm guessing I'll be meeting her tonight. She's too showy not to."

"Es, I have to admit, I'm kind of nervous about tonight," he confessed.

"Well, we can go for a bit, and if you decide you want to go, we can. Are you contratually obligated to be there?"

"No, but it's a common courtesy in the industry. Kiss ass with the director, the usual."

"Great." She turned to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Let's say someone is making you uncomfortable, or we're in a group and you can't shake a weird feeling. How about a word so I know to get you out?"

"Sure. Any ideas?" He pulled her close against him, both arms around her.

"Something remotely related to the movie maybe, but kind of random. If we're close to each other, something like, "Nice shoes," or if we're in a group, "The movie's going to be amazing.""

He smiled. "I like those."

"Okay, those will be the out words. But I think we should start getting ready now," she told him, changing the subject.

"Now? We still have three hours until the car's here."

"Yes now, because after you're all dressed up, I'd like to undress you. I have a feeling we'll be a little occupied after. And we probably won't have a chance tomorrow."

He grinned wickedly. "I'll go with that, but as for tomorrow, we can try."

She nodded, and let him go, then went to gather her items to get in the shower.

After slipping the dress and shoes on- she didn't bother with her hair and makeup quite yet- she opened the door and looked around. He was nowhere in sight. Strange, she thought. She entered her room, then into the living room. He was in the kitchen, dressed in his suit, but his back was to her. She couldn't tell what he was doing. She decided to wait a moment, watching him. A moment later he knocked back the last of a water bottle, then turned to face her, his eyes scanning her. He set the empty bottle on the counter before crossing to her.

"You okay?" she asked, a little worried. She'd never seen him so pensive.

He slipped his arms around her waist.

"I guess as much as I could be, knowing a confrontation with a deranged stalker is inevitable this evening," he said with a sad smile. "But I'm glad to be here with you, right now. I mean, who knows, this could be my last time-"

"Shut up," she said forcefully. "You're way rediculously overreacting."

"Regardless, I'm glad I'm with you, even if you won't admit you like me," he said with a crooked smile.

"The truth is, and especially now with this stalker, I'll admit I do like you, maybe more, but is it because you're vulnerable? If we were in a completely normal scenero, would we feel the same as we do now? We wouldn't be thrown together and forced to make nice. I think in that situation, I would be able to trust what I feel. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I think you have a point, to some extent."

"And for me, being able to trust what I feel is a big deal."

"Does this have to do with the unfinished conversation the morning after our first intimate night?"

"Yeah, but I don't wanna waste our time with that," she told him, watching his expression as she ran her hands up and down the lapels of his coat. She slipped her hands under, to run along the smooth material of the vest. Following the material of the vest over his shoulders, she gently pushed his coat off and laid it over the back of the couch. While undoing the buttons of this vest, then slowly opening his shirt, she took a moment to admire him. He really did look stunning.

His open hands slowly roamed up and down her sides, his thumbs stroking the outside curve of her breasts at every pass.

Interrupting, her phone rang from the bedroom.

"Ignore it," she told him quietly.

"But what if it's about the case?" he asked.

"It's Grainger, but he can leave a message." She leaned in to kiss him, to keep him from arguing. He didn't need much redirection- he kissed her back instantly, his hands now stationary next to her breasts, his thumbs caressing her nipples through the dress.

She pushed his shirt off and down his arms, tossing it on top of his coat and vest. She ran her open hands over his chest, and down to his belt.

His hands pulled the v of her dress to the sides, exposing her breasts. Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he kissed her neck as she undid his pants, letting them slide to the floor. She slipped her fingers under the elastic band of his underwear, pushing them down. He stepped out of them, then undid the tie behind her neck, letting her dress join his clothes. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked to the couch. She could feel his erection pressed between them. He set her on the back of the couch, her feet flat on the seat cushions. Parting her knees, he stood between them, chests flush against each other's.

She slid her fingers through his hair and pulled him close, laying open mouth kisses along his neck and shoulders.

His hand came between them to touch her, testing, his fingers dancing like feathers across her. He liked that she was already so wet for him. He took himself in his hand and found what he was looking for, and slowly slid inside her.

They came together with a sigh, beginning to move against each other, their mouths exploring any inch of skin they could reach, hands roaming and squeezing.

Their pace quickly escalated, becoming frenzied.

He slid a hand down between them, touching and encouraging. It didn't take too long before she was falling over the edge, his name being called.

As soon as she was able, she reached between them, and he slid out of her and into her hands. She finished him off, catching his orgasm.

He kissed her a final time, then helped her off the back of the couch. She made her way to the kitchen sink, cleaning her hands.

When she returned to him, he was slipping his shirt back on. She gathered her dress and sauntered into the bathroom, feeling his eyes on her.

After redressing and finishing with hair and makeup, they met each other in the living room with smiles of appreciation for the other.

"You look so beautiful, Ms. Hale," he said. "A woman as beautiful as you should have beautiful jewlery." She was pretty sure her chin dropped as she watched him pull a box out of his suit coat pocket and held it out to her. It was in a Gucci box. So that's what he was doing up on the third floor while she was looking at shoes. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Here, please accept these." He opened the lid of the box, revealing a pair of large diamond teardrop earrings.

"I can't-"

"Please?" he asked, giving her a puppy dog look.

"It's too much-"

"Shh." He undid her simple silver hoop earrings, setting them on the stand next to the door. He carefully put on her new ones. "Perfect," he said with a smile, then helped her with her coat.

"Thank you," she responded, a smile playing on her lips as he put his own coat on.

"You're welcome." After locking the door behind them, he escorted her through the halls and downstairs to the waiting car.

Once he was settled next to her and they were on their way, he asked about her boss's message.

"I'm just glad we didn't let him inturrupt. He said everything was clear, set, and ready to go."

"Oh. That's good."

She nodded, looking out the windows for anything unusual.

"So what am I supposed to be doing during this? Besides for watching out for your ass."

He laughed. "I'm going to have to be signing autographs and taking pictures outside, so just hang out with me, a step back or so. Inside we can be closer," he said, the crooked smile appearing.

The car slid to a stop along the curb, and their door was opened. Shrugging off their coats before stepping out into the roar of the crowd and constant flashes of cameras, he stood and smiled, giving a wave to the people. He immediately went to the crowd, restrained by metal barricades to autograph and snap pictures.

She watched him work, her eyes constantly moving. She spotted a few familar faces, officers on her squad in the crowd and around the carpet. Thankful for backup, just in case.

It seemed like an hour until he crossed to the other side, for more pictures and autographs, and then another hour before they were finally inside the hotel.

Her anxiety level decresed fifty percent in just those two steps in the door. Almost immediately they were greeted by her boss, reassuring everything was secure.

Rob slipped his arm through hers, and led her to a large circle of men in suits.

"Rob! There you are! I was worried you'd been swallowed by the mob out there," an average build man, slightly balding, and brown glasses approached Rob exuberantly, reaching for Rob's hand to shake. After their greetings and introductions, it turns out the man was the director of the film, Mr. Allen Coulter. As they visited, Esme kept her eyes moving. Things couldn't go this smooth, could they?

As they drifted towards their next group, a small, dark blonde female with large brown eyes stopped them, dressed in a nice black suit, holding two champagne glasses.

"Hello, my name is Alandra, and I'm the manager of this hotel," she said with a bright smile, extending her hand to Rob. "I'm a big fan, and I wanted to apologize in person for any hardship your brief stay at this hotel may have caused. I'm truely sorry there was any incident at all, let alone the horrifying experience of having your personal space intruded uppon. I wanted you to know you can stay at this hotel any time, free of charge," she beamed.

"Thank you for your sentiment, and your offer of hospitality."

As the woman prattled on about the perks he'd get, Esme dug deep in her mind to recall the woman's face. She'd seen it somewhere, somewhere in the hotel, but she couldn't quite remember. And then it came to her. She was the one that checked them into their second room. She blinked, relieved she remembered the face.

"As a gesture of peace, I'd like to offer you your first glass of wine for the evening."

Alandra had yet to wipe the cheesy smile off her face, and it was starting to annoy Esme, along with her constant ass kissing. She knew PR was a lot of it, but this was crossing the line.

Esme watched Alandra offer a glass to Rob, and then sip from the second. With a raised eyebrow, she began to glare at the woman who was watching Rob drink from the glass.

"Thank you," Rob said with a smle.

And Alandra's smile somehow became bigger. She was starting to creep Esme out.

"You're very welcome. And please," she placed a hand on Rob's bicep, "don't hesitate to flag me down contact me if you need anything at all. Have a pleasant evening," she said, smiling at Rob.

Esme was fuming. The woman didn't even acknowledge her. PR my ass, she thought with a smirk.

"What, Es?" Rob asked, looking at her.

"She didn't even say hi to me, the rude bitch. If she was about PR she would have said something. And the way she kissed your ass! I'm surprised I didn't have to take a crow bar to her lips."

"Why Officer Hale, are you jealous?" he said with s cocky grin.

"Not at all, I could kick her ass any day. She just rubs me the wrong way. Something about her," she trailed off.

"She seemed typical to me."

"That's horrible," she said quietly.

"You get used to it." He shrugged it off, but it still bothered her.

They mingled with a few castmates and crewmates, and had another glass or two of champagne. The house band started playing a song, and Rob pulled her to the dance floor.

"Hey Es," Rob said, pulling her closer than they'd been all night. "You're so soft," he said, his hands skimming up and down her bare back as he swayed.

"Thanks?" she asked.

"It's like warm velvet or silk," he continued, his hands roaming farther and farther south.

Esme glanced around, trying to see if anyone was paying attention to the way he was pawing her.

"Rob, people are looking," she whispered in his ear.

"Let them. They can be jealous." His hands never stopped moving, and his hips were joining them. "This song is so amazing."

Esme couldn't help but laugh. "Do you need hearing aids? It's an instrumental version of Chere's 'Do You Believe In Love'."

"Isn't it great?" he asked, his hips and hands moving in double time to the beat. Probably what the beat was supposed to be if it hadn't been instrumental.  
She grasped onto his shoulders, trying to hold him still. She could feel his body temperature though his coat. That raised an alarm.

"Rob, look at me," she demanded when his mouth had found it's way to her neck. After a moment, he finally met her eyes. His forehead was sweaty, the hair drooping. "Come on," she said, and led him towards the bathrooms.

"But I wanna dance! I _love_this song!"

"Bullshit," she said under her breath. Something was wrong. There was a chair by the entrance to the bathrooms, so she pushed him down into it, then squatted down to his level. "Stay here, I'll be right back. I'm going into the bathroom to get a wet towel," she told him. "Got it?"

He nodded, a smile blooming on his face so innocent and beautiful it made her heart sigh.

"Hurry, I wanna dance, and touch you," he said, running his fingertips down her arm.

"Two seconds," she told him. He nodded again.

She dashed into the bathroom, searching for the hand towels hotels always kept in their bathrooms. Finding one, she ran it under the cold water. Her mind was racing. Something was wrong. He wasn't acting like his normal self. Too much alcohol? But they'd only had a handful of drinks, and she knew he could keep his alcohol better than that, but he was acting like he was shitfaced. And he was so grabby. He wasn't one to openly show affection like that. And dancing? The song was shit, and he knew music. Touching, dancing, sweaty with little to no exertion. Dancing, touching, sweaty. Fuck! She flew out of the bathroom, and found him gone.

Damnit! She dug for her cell.

"Grainger."

"Grainger, Rob's missing, and I think something's in the champagne at the party."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I've only had two glasses, and he's had three, and the first one from- SHIT!" She screeched. "Grainger. I need officers that aren't by doors in the building to do a sweep. We're looking for the manager of the hotel, a small woman with a black suit on, big brown eyes and shoulder length dark blonde hair. Bitch! I think she drugged Rob."

She ended the call and put the phone back into her clutch. She had a feeling on where she would have taken him. She took off her shoes, tossed them into the nearest corner, and ran out of the room, not caring that people were stairing at her. Running down the hall to the nearest set of elevators, she pushed the button. Impatient, she ripped the door to the stairwell open and took the stairs two at a time after hiking up her dress. She knew she was going to chafe where her leg rubbed against her gun, but that was to worry about later. Pulling open the second floor door, she ran to the elevator and pushed the button, looking left then right. There was a cleaning lady's cart about five doors down. Knowing she'd need a key, she ran to the cart and found the woman. Flashing her badge tucked in the inside belt of her dress, she got the key and ran back to the elevators. Pushing the button, praying silently it was there. Ten seconds later, the doors dingged open. Pushing the top button harder than necessary, pacing as the elevator crawled to the top. She caught a glance of her reflection in the mirror. She gasped. Her hair, which had been done up in pincurls, were hanging limply around her face. She was flushed, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. The doors finally opened, and she burst into the hall. Making her way to the suite they first stayed in, she pressed her ear against the door. Pulling her gun from her holster strapped to her thigh, she held her breath, listening.

"I bet you have such a nice, thick cock Rob. Shall we see?"

Oh hell no. She pulled her phone out and texted her boss the room number she was about to enter, and to send backup ASAP. Silently, she slid the card into the reader then pulled it out. When the light flashed green, she slowly turned the handle. Once it was cracked, she inched it slowly open with her right hip, slid in, then caught it with her toes until it was closed. Holding her gun up, she listened again, trying to find where they were. Doors to both rooms were open slightly, all the lights on.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here," she heard Rob say. Slurred, more like. He was in his old room. She snuck through the kitchen and paused at the door. "Esme's gonna be so mad. She's alredy mad at you."

"Shut up about that stupid cunt. I don't want to hear her name again."

He hissed, then gasped "how did you do everything?"

Esme was torn. She wanted to barge in and kick the girl's ass, but she wanted to record the confession. But them not knowing about it wasn't legal, so, option number one.

She edged the door open, sticking her head in to take in the scene. Rob was bound by his wrists to the frame of the bed which had no sheets, his top half naked, his pants undone. Alandra's jacket was off and her shirt was completely unbuttoned, and she was straddling his waist.

"Stupid cunt, huh? Well this stupid cunt's gonna give you a well deserved ass kicking, you sick twisted bitch. And after that, you're going to prison for a long time. And you keep wracking up the charges. Besides. Anything about his cock is for me to know and you to dream about."

"Oh God Es, I tried to tell her-" Rob began, but he fell silent when Esme launched herself at Alandra, grabbing her around the waist and knocking her to the floor.

Esme straddled Alandra's hips, pinning her. Alandra tried to buck her off, so Esme backhanded her across her left cheek. Alandra grabbed Esme's hair, yanking hard. Esme twisted back, her hair screaming in protest as she swung her left fist, connecting with Alandra's jaw, knocking her out instantly. Alandra went limp beneath her, so she stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, panting, just as the guys came pounding through the outside door.

"In here," she called, moving to Rob's side and zipped him up before moving to the tie closest to her. They walked in and found her there.

"Hale! What the hell happened in here?!" Grainger bellowed, pushing his way through the officers.

"I knocked the bitch out," she said simply. "She drugged Rob's champagne, and waited for it to take effect. When I left him for two seconds to get a cold wet cloth from the bathroom, she kidnapped him, got him up here, stripped him, tied him up, and was in the process of having her way with him before I interrupted. I believe she gave him ecstasy. The symptoms match. She was just about to confess to everything, so she's the stalker we've been looking for."

She freed one of his wrists from the intricate knot, then moved to the other.

"Explains how the girls knew about the room number, how she was able to get in and out of both rooms without being seen, she has access to the cameras. Cleaning supplies like rubber gloves, and the authority to go wherever she needed, being manager."

"Good work Hale, we'll get her out of here and get her straightened out. Why'd you knock her out? Did she resist your instruction?"

"Yes," she answered, knowing that was how they were going to explain the bruises that would appear on her face the next day. "She became violent when I entered the room. I was forced to subdue her." She winked at Grainger, and he smiled.

"Alright gentlemen, let's get her out, and let Hale do her job. Mr. Pattinson. Are you okay son?"

"I am now," he said with a smile.

"Take good care of him, Hale. I'll have someone bring over some vitamin C, and I'll let everyone know downstairs." He turned to leave, a couple of officers cuffing Alandra and carrying her down to the squad cars waiting outside.

She untied the final knot, then went to get a new cold cloth and a glass of water.

"Es, can you turn on some music please? I still wanna dance."

"Rob," she said, placing the cloth on his forehead, then sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. His pupils were dialated. "I know you don't feel like it now, but I promise you, if you rest now, it'll make it a lot easier to work through this."

"What did she give me?"

"Ecstasy. How much I don't know, but it couldn't have been a lot. I'm hoping you won't have any lasting side effects."

"Well shit, no wonder I've been so horny," he said, a lazy smile on his face as he stroked himself a couple times . He trailed a finger up and down her arm.

"Alandra was very willing," she said teasingly.

"Yuck. I like you, maybe."

"Well, not in this state. Here. Have some water." She propped him up slightly with the pillows that had been discarded onto the floor, and helped him drink. When he'd finished the glass, she pulled up the blankets from the floor and placed them on him. There was a soft knock on the door, so she went to answer it. Officer Hessamer was there with a bottle of vitamin C tablets.

"Thank you." Esme closed the door, then opened the bottle and poured a couple into her hand. Refilling his glass, she helped him take the pills. "I think we should arrange for you to be transferred to my place, and reschedule your flight out tomorrow. I don't know if you'll be up to it."

"I have to go. I don't remember exactly what it is right now, but I know it's important."

"If it's important, shouldn't you be completely sober?"

He studied her for a moment, contemplating. "Can we wait and see?"

She nodded. "Of course. Now try to rest while I make moving arrangements." She stood from the bed and quietly exited the room, heading to the living room to make calls.

When she returned, he was still awake, but stairing out the window, a light sheen of sweat visible on his face and shoulders.

"They're on their way, and we can go change and get you comfortable." She helped get him dressed as she waited for the officer who was going to help.  
About fifteen minutes later, there was another knock. With a glance through the peephole, it was another uniform. He did fairly well getting into the cab, and then up into her apartment.

She slowly changed him, and helped him onto the couch so he could have the t.v.

She babied him like he was sick- nibbles of food often, lots of fluid, more vitamin C, let him rest.

When night fell and she was turning off the lights to go to bed, he called for her.

"Es. I don't want to sleep seperately on our last night. Lay with me please?"

Unable to argue, she climbed in next to him, her back against his front, and laid awake, thinking of the day as his breathing became deep and regular.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Last chapter. Hope you enjoyed the story. I might post another chapter story, but it wouldn't be until after the new year. Holidays are crazy, and updates wouldn't be reliable, and I like reliable.

I have to say it's been a great first experience for me posting on here, so I'd like to thank everyone who read this, from everywhere. Thank you!

On with it.

* * *

The next morning, being a Sunday and having no plans but to get him to the airport on time, they were able to sleep in. It was amazing not to have to wake up to an alarm. It made her glad the filming was done, but then it made her sad the filming was done. She had to admit, if he wanted to bring her with him, she would go. If he didn't, she would probably mourn and mope for a few days. Maybe a week. But at least she'd be in Spain. She brightened at that thought. Guys, alcohol, sun and beaches. She could definitely use a vacation after this week. She sighed, and tried to think of what to pack as she got up and started breakfast.

Not too much later he began to stir, with coffee and pancakes waifting in the air. She heard him cough, and brought him a glass of water. After he'd finished it, she began the inquery.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little nauseous, my heart is racing- my jaw is sore?" He rubbed it, looking at Esme.

"A fairly common side effect is involuntary teeth clenching and muscle spasms. Probably when you were asleep. I'll go serve your plate."

As she gathered the pancakes and a warm pack for his jaw, she thought about whether he should go today or not. So far, the worst of his symptoms was nausea, but that wouldn't stop her from flying to Spain. Well, if he asks, she'd be honest with him. Depending on how he felt, he probably was clear to fly.  
She returned to him with a plate of lightly buttered pancakes with strawberry jam, and a glass of orange juice, along with another pill of vitamin C.

"What time is it?" He asked, finishing off his first pancake.

"Almost eleven. What time is your flight out?"

"Three something."

"Do you think you'll be ready in a couple hours?" She studied him closely. At least his eyes had returned to normal, and he was a little pale and clammy.

"I think so," he said slowly.

With a nod, she stood. "You rest, I'll get your belongings together."

He cought her hand, forcing her to stop.

"Thank you for being so good to me," he told her sincerely.

She gave him a half smile. "You're still under my watch," she told him, shaking her hand loose gently.

Crossing to her room, she began to collect his things, placing them in his open suitcase on her bed.

Finishing, she layed out new clothes for him, and tried to get him into the shower. It was a difficult task, and finally when he was changed. She put his old clothes in his bag, zipped it up and rolled it to the door. She went back to him, sitting on her bed, his head hanging, toying with his fingers.

When he looked up at her, she noticed his eyes were tight, a little watery.

"Where does this leave us?" he asked, his voice cracking. He looked back down at his hands, hiding his eyes.

"Hey, don't worry, it's another common side effect- unhappyness. But as of right now, I think it'd be best if we went our seperate ways, until you've recovered completely in a couple days, and we've had some time apart. To think about things, if you will." It wrenched her heart nearly out of her chest when he looked up at her, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Turns out I need you, Es. What am I going to do without you?"

She stroked his cheek gently. "If you told me that in a week, well, things would be different. But now your coming down is skewing your thinking."

"No!" He jumed up, forcing her to jump backwards. "I don't care about the fucking side effects. I care about you."

She took a deep shaky breath, and crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head in the crook of his arm. "Remember when I told you that we needed to be able to believe our feelings outside of this situation?"

"Yes." His arms wrapped around her like a vice, his cheek resting on the top of her head.

"This is another perfect example. I'll tell you what. I'm going on vacation for a week, to Spain. And when I get back, if you still feel the same way, call me from wherever you are, okay?"

She felt him shudder, then whisper his agreement into her hair.

"We have to get you to that plane now, especially with you moving slower than usual."

He let go of her reluctantly, but held onto her hand. She gathered his belongings, and handed him the last thing, his hat hung by the door. She stood up on her tiptoes and set it on his head, then pulled it low to cover his eyes.

It was kind of like deja vu, only the atmosphere was more somber. He sat in the back seat, hat pulled down, but missing the flirty carefree smile. She was in the front, her sunglasses on, driving to the airport carefully. Parking outside the same doors she'd picked him up from, they stood outside the parked car. She saw the escorts waiting for him by the door.

"I'll miss you Es," he said. "Thank you for everything." He pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I'm glad I kept you, it's been interesting. I'll definitely miss you, and saving your ass," she said with a teasing smile, trying to stay calm and squeezing him in return.

He let go of her and lifted her chin, and gave her the softest, saddest goodbye kiss she'd ever had. Her sewn up heart was coming unraveled at it's seams. Falling apart- not healing anymore, like it had been the last couple days.

"Keep in touch. And if you're ever in New York again," she told him, an open invitation.

"I need to know one thing before I go, Es," he said, lifting her glasses to search her eyes. "Will you answer if I call in a week, or would I be wasting my time?"

And there it was. The top four stitches ripped apart. A tear slid from her eye. "I'll answer," she said softly.

A big grin lit up his face as he squeezed her one last time, and with a quick peck on the cheek, she was passing him to his waiting security. Then he disappeared, wheeling his bag through the doors.

Sliding her sunglasses back down, she strode to the car and climbed in, throwing it into drive. She would not cry, would not cry, would not cry, she chanted, driving to the station to return the car and collect her own.

* * *

She'd been in Madrid for three full days now, and she couldn't fool herself. It wasn't as much fun as she'd thought it'd be. Sure she'd had her one night stands, and there was some active flirtation going on between her and the guy at the coffee shop under her hotel room. It was fun, but harmless. Her heart just wasn't into it. As she sat in a lounge chair on the beach in her red bikini with a cold bottle of beer in her hand, she thought back over her time with Rob. Had she been too big of a bitch for him to see she even gave more than a shit about him? Probably. That was the one thing she wished she'd done differently, was show more affection. But then she'd been working, and carrying man baggage. Nobody in public could say she'd been less than professional. But maybe she'd been too professional. She was inturrupted by a shadow being cast over her, in the shape of a person.

"Excuse me, anyone sitting here?" the voice asked. She knew it instantly. She set her beer down in the sand, and lept up out of her chair and into the arms of the man she'd just been thinking about.

"How did you find me?" she asked, her hands running over the thin blue cotton of his button down t-shirt. She stepped back and looked up at him. He had a huge grin on his face.

"I called Grainger. He told me everything."

Squealing, she hugged him again. "I can't believe you're here! Sit!" She pulled him down into her chair. She stopped herself right before she launched herself into his lap.

"What?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Why are you here?" she asked out of sheer curiosity.

"To see you, of course. I couldn't wait a week. I did what I needed to do in L.A., and I came straight out to find you. I missed you."

"So this isn't a professional visit?" she asked, weary.

"No. Purely pleasure," he reassured her, his smile genuine.

She launched herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's so funny because I was just thinking about how my coldness would keep you away. Your last question to me was my wakeup call. But I was so torn- you were business. But I'm so thankful that you came to find me." She murmered agains his jaw, peppering kisses wherever she could reach.

He laughed. "I have to say I'm surprised by your show of affection. I wasn't expecting it."

"I know, I'm sorry how I acted before. I was so cold to you. I'm sorry. Thank you for coming back."

"What I said before I left was true Es, even if I was out of sorts. I knew enough even then." He buried his face in her hair. "So where does this leave us now?" he asked again.

"Where?" she echoed, looking up at him.

"Well, I'm rather fond of option number three," he said with a smile and casual shrug. "How about you?"

"I'm up for option three," she told him, the image of her heart in her mind sewing back together in neat tiny stitches from the bottom up.

"Perfect. I was hoping you'd say that. The whole sex slave clause is excellent."

She laughed. "That it is." She sighed and snuggled against him, feeling more complete than she had in a long time.


	9. Authors Note

Hey all,

I just wanted to add a note- I wanted to thank everyone who read my story, it means a lot to me. And with the end of this story, and with it going so well, I busted ass and finished that oneshot I talked about before. I finished it today, and edited and posted it. It's only two in the morning, no big deal!

Go read it if you like, it's a one shot, so it's obviously mature in nature. And as my style, it's another Rob story, with a fictional female. I like making him do things. I do have stories that have Taylor and Kellan in there, but they're very mature, and I'm not sure how they'll be received yet.

Anyway, yeah.

Thanks again,

Maddy


End file.
